"
"I'd rather have given you a dollar than had you run against me with
such violence. I feel it yet."
"Indeed, sir, I'm very sorry."
"Well, I'll forgive you, under the circumstances. What's your name?"
"Paul Hoffman."
"Well, I hope you'll get back your basket. Some time, if you see me in
the street, come up and let me know. Would you know me again?"
"I think I should, sir."
"Well, good-morning. I hope you'll catch the thief."
"I thank you, sir."
They parted company, but Paul did not continue the pursuit. The
conversation in which he had taken part had lasted so long that Mike
had had plenty of time to find a refuge, and there would be no use in
following him.
So Paul went home.
"You are home early, Paul," said his mother. "Surely you haven't sold
out by this time."
"No, but all my packages are gone."
"How is that?"
"They were stolen."
"Tell me about it."
So Paul told the story.
"That Mike was awful mean," said Jimmy, indignantly. "I'd like to hit
him."
"I don't think you would hurt him much, Jimmy," said Paul, amused at his
little brother's vehemence.
"Then I wish I was a big, strong boy," said Jimmy.
"I hope you will be, some time."
"How much was your loss, Paul?" asked his mother.
"There were nearly forty packages. They cost me about a dollar, but if
I had sold them all they would have brought me in twice as much.
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