O. Henry Problems

Crystalline sunlight shone down from the baby blue sky. Clusters of birds penetrated the air, sending shrill cries all around. The ground below was covered in a sprawling city, not too big and not too small. Trees sporting fresh green leaves popped up all over the grid. A lazy river dozed alongside the town; the very thing that had, two hundred years ago, been the central for of trade and communication for the now- boisterous city. Through the people milling about, two strolled along together along a sidewalk in the inner- city.
A dark haired young woman walked along the side of a similar young man, each laughing back and forth. The girl wore frayed cutoff shorts, worn out Converse, and a T- shirt covered in an olive green vest. Her melodious laughter rang about the streets, bringing a smile to the faces of others. The man was clad in cargo shorts, equally tousled shoes, and a faded gray shirt. Around his neck hung an old acoustic Yamaha guitar which he strummed occasionally.
"Kit," the girl exclaimed, "I honestly cannot believe you did that! What was going through your head?"
"Ellie, I would have thought," he commented, "That you would know by now that most of the time I don't know what goes on in my mind." He chuckled. "Besides, he was a cheap old fart, and he had no right to talk to you that way. I think he needed someone to tell him a good thing or two.
Ellie Hampton sighed and shook her head. "Mr. O'Connor," she stated, "I cannot believe you sometimes. But it's okay," she added. "I can't believe myself, either."
"Ells," Kit said after a pause, "How's that one song go? The one about the Bay and the Blue Ridge?"
"Hm? Oh! The one by Page Wilson. It's called 'Virginia'." She laughed her jingling laugh and began to sing:
"Well many a mile a soul may wander
To fates and places yet unseen…"
Kit began strumming the same chords on his guitar, accompanying her perfectly. They played along like this all down the street. Those who passed them seemed indifferent to the melody, seeing it was a typical sight in the city.  A few, however, smiled at the familiar tune and began whistling it to themselves while others complimented their duet. Throughout the song, they wandered toward the small flat owned by Ellie on the far side of town. As the lyrics came to an end, Ellie pointed out, "Kit, it's awfully hot out. Think we can stop at one of the coffee shops along the way and snag a glass of water? I'm parched."
"I don't see why not; we're in no hurry," Kit obliged. "That looks like a place up ahead." He led the way into the café entitled "Stir Crazy." Ellie followed him inside and occupied herself by flipping through the local Times that was lying out on a rack. Kit ordered two cups to go and stood off to the side while the lady behind the counter filled a couple plastic cups with ice and water from the faucet. He thanked her and maneuvered his way back to Ellie, careful not to hit anyone with the guitar.
"Here you are," he said, handing one of the condensating cups to her. After taking a thirst- quenching sip, he said, "That was a brilliant idea. I'm so glad we did this."
Ellie nodded, unable to speak because her head was tilted backward as she guzzled down the water. Kit chuckled and grabbed her hand, leading her back down the sidewalk. Something caught the corner of his eye, however. As he turned his head slightly to glimpse it better, he wished he hadn't. Behind them was a group of three police officers, all looking out of place in the open instead of in their cars. Under normal circumstances, Kit would have shaken it off, paying them no mind. He knew that this was no normal circumstance, though, and cursed himself for being so stupid. Ah, go eat a donut, he thought moodily. He knew what these cops were after, and he was determined to not let them have it.
"Come on, Ells," he muttered to his partner. "We need to high- tail it out of here."
Before she could question why, he began pulling her deep into the crowd of oncoming human traffic. A cry of "Hey!" arose from behind them. Ellie turned in time to see three officers pick up their pace and attempt to shove their way through the multitude of people that were already closing the gap that had been formed by Ellie and Kit. She had no idea what was going on, but the actions of Kit and the way the police were starting after them hinted that she should simply follow Kit and question him later. They wove in and out of businessmen and women, muttering "excuse me"'s as they went. Coming to the edge of the business district, the two picked up the pace and began sprinting across the open field that was now to their right. The cops were close behind them, shouting for them to stop every so often. Despite the urge to be worried, Ellie couldn't help giggling at the adrenaline rush it gave her.
Down the grassy green hill they bounded, in the direction of the river, with the police close on their heels. Kit was surveying the area along the river and caught sight of a clutter of small, dilapidated buildings. "Ellie, down there. We'll try and throw them off."
"You really think that'll work?"
"Any better ideas?"
We could just give them what they want. She thought, but she doubted that was an option. Within seconds, they were at the entrance to one of the buildings. Instead of going in, they circled around to the backs of them, hoping to evade their pursuers. Sliding in between two that gave perhaps a foot's berth, Kit pulled Ellie in beside him. Perhaps Fate was favoring them that day, or maybe Hermes had spotted them from the heavens. Whatever the case, the thieves lost their tails. When they were out of sight, Ellie scrambled out of the nook and breathlessly said, "Kit O'Connor, you are absolutely nuts."
"M'lady, I take that as a compliment," he replied, bowing mockingly. Kit changed his accent, mimicking a British person perfectly. "Anyway, I really wanted for you to enjoy this." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a modest paperback book.
Ellie gasped. "That isn't—"
"Aye, 'tis," Kit said proudly. Before he knew what had happened, Ellie cuffed him on the side of the head with the empty plastic cup she still clutched in her hand. "You fool! All of this was over a book?!"
Rubbing his head, Kit replied defensively, "But it's a good book. And look—for God's sake, lady, don't hit me again!—it's one you don't have! I was just trying to help, honest."
Ellie sighed and took the book from him. The title page was missing, but as she thumbed through the old paper to the title page, she realized that he was right. She didn't have this one. It was the one she had been looking for for so many years; the one book that contained every story ever written by her favorite author. Without warning, Ellie ran and tackled Kit, embracing him in the biggest hug ever.
"I absolutely love it," she whispered. Her hand, though bent at an awkward angle underneath Kit's back, clutched tightly to the ancient copy of The Collected Stories of O. Henry.