"Excuse me—I—I made a mistake," was the answer; and now Walter recognized the tones of the fellow who had the watch. "I am looking for a man named Harris."
"Well, he doesn't live here,—so you had better get out."
"Will you—er—tell me who lives next door?" asked the man Walter was after, in a lower tone, evidently wishing to gain time ere leaving the building.
"A man named Casey and another named Barton live there. There ain't a Harris on the block. If you—"
"Hold him, please," burst in Walter, mounting the tenement steps. "He has a watch that was stolen from my uncle."
"Shut up, boy!" answered the man fiercely. "My watch is my own, and this is all a mistake."
"There is no mistake. Hold him, will you?"
"I've got him," came from the gloom of the hallway. "I thought he was a sneak or something by the way he was tip-toeing around here."
"You are both of you crazy. I never stole a thing in my life. Let go, both of you!" And then the man began to struggle fiercely, finally
