Chapter 2

Passing along the street, apparently self-absorbed, there seems little
in this man to attract notice.

Why does the scared newsboy hurry by, thinking of that strange face?

Quickly the agitated countenance assumes a look of dignified
indifference.

A block away the boy resumes his calls:

"All about the murder of a young girl! Body found in the river! Police
on track of the murderer!"

"Poor little fellow!" murmured Oswald. "He gave me such a shock! But how
frightened he seemed when passing, with his innocent yell! How foolish
my scare! What do New York police know or care about a crime committed
in London years ago?"

Curious to read what the city papers say of this homicide, Oswald
retraces his steps, turns a corner, and sees the boy waiting pay from a
pleasant-faced, careful old man, who holds to his purchase while
critically scrutinizing the coin, as if sorry to part with such "image
and superscription" without approved value.

"Be the girl dead and be she drowned sure?"

"She's a goner!" replied the boy.

This emphatic assurance of "rigor mortis" having convinced the old
gentleman that his money will be well invested, the deal is about to be
closed, when, seeing Oswald, little Jack sprints across the street, down
an alley, into the arms of a policeman.

"Pfwhat yez roonin' loike yez a stalin' wagabond pfhwor?" sternly asks
the officer.

"That willanous-lookin' rascal round there is campin' on me trail."

With visions of a kidnaper of small boys fleeing from his wrath, Michael
P. O'Brien drags the terrified Jack out of the alley to the street.
Seeing the old man holding to the paper and looking dazed, upon this
gray-haired malefactor is placed the strong hand of the "statute in such
case made and provided," and he is started toward the police-station,
with the soothing assurance:

"Yez nadn't confiss yez guilt by discriminatin' ividince."

Seeing that matters are badly mixed, Jack sidles away toward the
opposite street-corner. His movement is noted by the policeman at the
exact moment that Jack again sees Oswald. Heedless of loud command to
"Sthop, in the noime of the law," the youthful auctioneer of the
metropolitan press heads at right angles and is soon out of sight.