It was done with incredible swiftness, but Ben's sharp eyes saw it.
The young man yawned, and, turning away from the lady, appeared to be looking out of a window at the head of the coach.
"Why, there is Jack Osborne," he said, half audibly, and, rising, pulled the strap for the driver to stop the stage.
Then was the critical moment for Ben.

Was he to allow the thief to escape with the money.

Ben hated to get into a disturbance, but he felt that it would be wrong and cowardly to be silent.
"Before you get out," he said, "hand that lady her pocketbook." The face of the pickpocket changed and he darted a malignant glance at Ben.
"What do you mean, you young scoundrel ?" he said.
"You have taken that lady's pocketbook," persisted Ben.
"Do you mean to insult me ?" "I saw you do it." With a half exclamation of anger, the young man darted to the door.
But he was brought to a standstill by the business man, who placed himself in his way.
"Not so fast, young man," he said resolutely.
"Out of the way!" exclaimed the thief, in a rage.

"It's all a base lie.

I never was so insulted in my life." "Do you miss your pocketbook, madam ?" asked the gentleman, turning to the lady who had been robbed.
"Yes," she answered.