The Thief

I ran down the alley, chose the middle trashcan, hit it perfectly and jumped over the fence. Normally I very skillfully knock all three trashcans over as I do it, but I missed them all this time. Even the “Greatest Apple Thief in the Entire World isn’t perfect.

The cop was still chasing me.

I heard the heavy clang of his foot onto the same can, and he too pulled himself over the fence right behind me.

I was all out running on St. Pete Street now. It was five O’clock and the traffic was the normal snarl. I ran between pedestrians.

I passed the hot-dog-stand, “Hi Al!” Gus called.

“Hi, Gus!” I said, waving.

I dashed across St. Pete and almost got clobbered by a Bud truck. He honked his horn at me as I continued down St Pete, going East now.

I heard the same honking of the same truck behind me.

This cop was impressive! I had to give him that.

I ran up the Martelli’s driveway, opened and slammed the gate, slid the dead-bolt over, patted Mack the pit-bull, and waved at Mr. Martelli, who was raking his back yard.

“Hey, Mr. Martelli!" I said, and in a practiced leap cleared the fence, grabbed the tire-swing rope, swung up onto the Gustaff’s side fence and landed on Parker Street.

Somehow, the cop was still behind me!

One day soon, I thought, I’m going to have to meet this guy!

“You’re good, Copper!” I called back as I ran down along Parker.

“We can’t keep doing this!” the copper said.

It’s rare for “The Greatest Apple Thief in the Entire World” to ever agree with a cop, but as we were both hoofing it down Parker Street, I found myself agreeing with this particular one.


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