“I wish you’d all hold your tongues, and mind your own business,” cried Peace, in a petulant tone. “If you want to hear the case, keep silent; if you don’t, shut up.”
“Well, don’t speak so sharp. It’s no fault of ourn,” said a man on the opposite seat.
“Don’t take on so because the girl’s jilted you,” cried another.
“You hold your clatter, you fool,” said Peace.
“Now then,” said the young man, who had been reading, “there isn’t much more of it, and so just keep quiet that I may finish the case.”
The prisoners obeyed, and the reader continued.
Several more questions were put to the witness regarding Peace, and our hero was greatly relieved when Ellen Fulford’s examination came to an end.
Never in his whole life had he been so astonished, and for the rest of the journey he remained moody and silent, hardly exchanging a word with any one, with the exception of his friend the cracksman, who, of his own accord, made Peace acquainted with his offence and the sentence which had been passed upon him.
There is a certain amount of forbearance displayed by prisoners. They make it a rule never to ask a man what he is in for. If a man likes to be communicative that’s another thing, but it would be deemed impertinent of a fellow-prisoner to question him on the subject.
The badge on his left arm gives his sentence as well as his number, so there is no reason to inquire “what he has got.”