"Hey?" said Cropper, "I didn't pick that up!?"

"You must have!" I laughed, "What a dag! All that trouble for a blimmen match box!"

Cropper looked annoyed now. He shoved the box into my pocket and walked away.

Just at that moment I heard a voice.

"Excuse me, you boys."

It was a security guard!

"Just an inquiry ... we've had a complaint from a woman in the flea market. She says something has gone missing from her table. Did you see anything?"

"No." I said, tiying to hide my guilt. It must have been so easy to see, written all over my face. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

"Thank you," the man said. He didn't smile. I was close to fainting with fright as he walked away.

Cropper came over to me.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"The security guard! He said the woman spotted us!"

"Lot of fuss for a stupid match box," said Cropper "Let's get out of here!"

We got back to the street without further trouble and headed for home.

"I think we should take it back." I said.

"We?" said Cropper, "I haven't got it. You take it back, if you feel so goody-good about it!"

"OK," I said "I will."

Cropper gave me one last derisive glance and I turned and went back into the mall. I went straight to the flea market and headed for the table.

It wasn't there!

"Must have got the wrong aisle," I thought. I went up and down, looking at every table. No woman with big green eyes. No table. Now what? I hung about for a while, and I even asked at two of me tables, but no-one even knew about a woman being where I said she had been. Eventually, I gave up. On the way out, I pulled the match box from my pocket and pushed the drawer open. I