I wrote this a couple of years ago as an assignment. The requirement was to write a story in exactly one-hundred words. This was what I came up with.
Donald ran, pausing only once to look over his shoulder. Mordecai was ten yards back, huffing and puffing. Donald turned back ahead, and saw that the perp had gained some distance. He holstered his service pistol and tucked his head down. He closed in on the perp quickly, and tackled him like a linebacker. Both of them tumbled across the vacant gravel lot in front of the now empty bait shop. Donald's arms were cut and bleeding, but the perp looked much worse for the wear. Mordecai caught up, panting, and wheezing. "All this over a stolen pack of gum?"