Old Joey Noakes took his
pipe out of his mouth, crinkled his face up into a mighty smile, and
exclaimed:
"It's good for sore eyes to see you again, Dicky. How was it this
time?"
"I liked the stone pile better than the chuck they gave us. Gee whiz,
I'll never get pinched in that burg again."
David turned away for a moment to speak to some one. When he looked
again, Dick Cronk had disappeared.
"Where is he?" he asked of old Joey.
"He's 'arf-way uptown by this time," said the clown quizzically.
"Who is he, Joey?"
Joey looked surprised. "Don't you know Artful Dick Cronk?" he
demanded. "Why, Jacky, he's the slickest dip--that's short for
pickpocket--in the United States. He's the king of all the glue-
fingers, that boy is. My eye, 'ow he can do wot he does, I can't for
the life of me see." He then went into a long dissertation on the
astonishing accomplishments of Artful Dick Cronk.
"And you all associate with him?" cried David, openly surprised.
"Certain sure. Why not? He's the most honest dip I ever see. He
wouldn't touch a thing belonging to one of us--not a thing. He works
only on these 'ere rich blokes wot thinks we're scum and vermin.
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