his mouth or we'll all be arrested!" exclaimed some one.

"Yes. Can't you manage him?" asked Annister desperately.

"He's as strong as a horse!" Roy heard one man grunt, and this caused
the boy to smile grimly.

The struggle in the dark continued. The boy had a good grip on two
men, and was preventing them from dragging him down the dark hallway.

But help was at hand. His cries had been heard in the street, and, a
moment later the door leading to the thoroughfare opened, and a little
light came in.

At the same time Roy heard the sound of a club striking on the pavement.

"The cops are coming!" cried a voice.

A few seconds later a burly bluecoat entered the door.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing but a drunken row," quickly replied one of the men who had
attacked Roy, at the same time trying to loosen the grip of the lad.
"I'm putting the fellow out."

The plotter would have been glad to drop the matter now and escape, but
Roy had no intention of letting him go.

"Officer!" exclaimed Roy quickly, "they're trying to get me away! I've
got hold of two of 'em. Give us a hand and we'll throw and tie 'em
both."

He talked as though he was on the ranch, handling a pair of refractory
calves.

Somehow the officer recognized the honesty in Roy's voice. He knew it
was not uncommon for thieves and pickpockets to attack persons in dark
hallways. He supposed it was one of those cases.

"I'll help you!" he exclaimed, quickly advancing. Some one in the rear
of the hall had opened a door, and the place was lighter. The
policeman saw two men whom Roy had gripped, holding them by twisting
his hands in their coats. The men tried to escape.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed the officer, grabbing one. "I've got you."

At the same time a second policeman appeared, and took charge of the
other. The rest of the men escaped.

"Now let's see who we've got," said the first bluecoat, as he led his
prisoner to the light in the rear. His brother officer did likewise.

"I don't know either of 'em," announced the first policeman.

"Me either," admitted his colleague. "They must belong to a new
pickpocket gang."

But Roy knew them both. One was Caleb Annister, and the other John
Wakely, alias Dennison Tupper, though Roy did not learn that until
later.

"Do you want to make a charge against these two?" asked the first
officer. "A charge of attempted pocket picking?"

"It's worse than that," replied Roy. "The