IX.
GREAT EXPECTATIONS.
CHENEY was very much frightened, but he cried sullenly, “You let me go!”
Allan did let him up from the ground, but still held fast to him. “So you are the thief, Cheney? And you want more, do you?” Allan’s voice trembled. “Cheney, I’m going to hand you over to the police. You deserve it. You robbed me, and now you were trying to do it again.” “No, I wasn’t,” whimpered Cheney. “Let me go, Allan! Don’t have me arrested. Please, Allan!”
Then Cheney suddenly gave a violent twist of his body, hoping to catch Allan unawares, and escape. But Allan’s fingers never loosened their hold.
“It’s no use, Cheney,” Allan said, speaking as quietly as his excitement would permit. “It wouldn’t do you any good to get away, anyhow. I know who it is, and you would be arrested before morning.”
Cheney began to cry. “Don’t, Allan.”
“But you are a thief, Cheney.”
“No, I ain’t, Allan; I did take them, but I just put them back.”