Disconsolate, Soapy stopped his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on
him? In his fancy, the island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat
against the chilling wind.
In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at the swinging light. He had set
his silk umbrella by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, grabbed the umbrella and
sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.
“My umbrella,” he said sternly.
“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petty larceny. “Well, why don’t you call a
policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the
corner.”
The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a premonition that luck would
again run against him. The policeman eyed at the two curiously.
“Of course,” said the umbrella man “Well, you know how these mistakes occur if it’s your
umbrella. I hope you’ll excuse me – I picked it up this morning in a restaurant if you
recognize it as yours, why I hope you’ll”.
“Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy Savagely.
The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera
cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.
Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. He hurled the umbrella
angrily into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs.
Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could
do nothing wrong. 2. Explain how the plan of stealing an umbrella, devised by Soapy to get arrested, failed:
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What is the question i am not understanding
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