He's a slick one, he is. Hits de country jays strong, he does!" At the mention of the name, Bill Butts, the policeman became more interested than ever. "You'll come to the station house with me," he said, sternly. "We can straighten out the matter there." "All right," answered Bill Butts, for such was his real name. In a few minutes more the party, including Joe, was off in the direction of the police station. "Better keep a good eye on your money, Mr. Bean," said our hero, as they walked along. "I've got it tucked away safe in an inside pocket," answered the old countryman. The station house was several squares away, and while walking beside the policeman the eyes of Bill Butts were wide open, looking for some means of escape. He had "done time" twice and he did not wish to be sent up again if it could possibly be avoided. His opportunity came in an unexpected manner. In a show window on a corner a man was exhibiting some new athletic appliances and a crowd had collected to witness the exhibition. The policeman had to force his way through. "Hi, quit shovin' me!" growled a burly fellow in the crowd, not knowing he was addressing a guardian of the law. "Make way here!" ordered the policeman, sternly, and then the fellow fell back. It gave Bill Butts the chance he wanted and as quick as a flash he dove into the crowd and out of sight. "He is running away!" cried Joe. "Catch him!" put in Josiah Bean. Both went after the swindler and so did the policeman. But the crowd was too dense for them, and inside of five minutes Bill Butts had made good his escape. "What did ye want to let him slip ye fer?" growled the old countryman, angrily. "Don't talk to me," growled the policeman.