The man briefly looked up, lost his footing, tripped, and fell to the ground. “Look what you made me do!” he snarled in a surprisingly cultured voice.

“I’m so sorry. Let us help you,” Wally said quickly as he reached for the stranger’s arm. But the man swung around and threw a punch. Wally reeled backward, blood spurting out of his nose, as the man hightailed it down the path.

Arthur, even though he wasn’t experiencing particularly warm feelings toward Wally this evening, took off after the assailant. He caught up with him, grabbed the straps of his backpack, pulled it off his body, and gave the stranger a good shove. “My friend was trying to be nice to you,” Arthur screamed. “We’re going to call the police.”

Like a shot, the man scurried down toward the river and quickly disappeared.

Stunned, Arthur was left holding the grimy backpack. He wasn’t about to chase the vagrant to an even more remote area. Breathing hard, he turned and walked back to Wally, who had sat down on the ground and tilted his head back to stem the flow of blood. His T-shirt was pulled up around his nose.

“Do you have a handkerchief?” Wally asked in a garbled tone.

“No. My mother told me a gentleman should always carry one, but I guess I’m not a gentleman.” Arthur sat down on the ground next to Wally. He placed the backpack on the ground next to him. “I can’t believe that nut took off without this. He really must have been afraid of me.”

“Do you think there’s anything inside that bag that I can use to soak up the blood?”

“I somehow doubt there are any clean bandages, but if you want me to take a look…” Arthur said hesitantly. If there was anything Arthur hated, it was germs.

“Take a quick look. Then we’ll get going, I promise.” Wally reached for one of the flashlights on the ground next to him and handed it to Arthur.

Wincing, Arthur opened the buckle of the backpack, pushed over the flap, and saw that a blanket that had been stuffed inside. “A blanket?” Arthur muttered as he started to pull it out. Right away he could tell that something was wrapped in it. He started to unroll the blanket with one hand and shone the flashlight with the other. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the objects in the backpack.

“What does he have in there?” Wally asked, gazing up at the stars.

“Wally!”

“What?”

“I think that man is a thief!”

“That makes three of us.”

“I’m not kidding. There are glass sculptures wrapped in this blanket that are worth a fortune. I read about a gallery that’s opening in Manhattan and specializing in glass like this.”

“I must have missed that. You read it online?”

“Of course.” Arthur pulled a second blanket out of the backpack and carefully unrolled it. “Now I’m sure they’re from that gallery!” he crowed triumphantly.