Read the extract and complete the activities given below:
At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window attractive. Soapy took a stone and dashed it through the glass. People came running, round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.
"Where's the man that done that?" inquired the officer agitatedly.
"Don't you think that I might have had something to do with it?" said Soapy, with a friendly voice, as one greets good fortune.
The policeman refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to chat with the police. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man half-way down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, drifted along, twice unsuccessful.
On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy betook himself without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flapjacks, doughnuts and pie. And then he told the waiter the fact that the minutest coin and himself were total strangers.
"Now, get busy and call a cop," said Soapy. "And don't keep a gentleman waiting."
"No cop for you," said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in the Manhattan cocktail. "Hey, Con!"
Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter's rule opens, and dusted his clothes. Arrest seemed now but an elusive dream. The island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drugstore two doors away laughed and walked down the street.