“Matter,” returned our hero. “I was as near as possible being potted. Just as I was leaving the grounds of the house, who should come up with me but a bobby. ‘What have you got in that bag?’ says he.
“‘That’s no business of yours,’ says I.
“‘Aint it though,’ cries my gentleman.
“‘No it aint. You mind your own business, and leave respectable people alone.’
“‘You’ll just let me see what you’ve got there, my man,’ says he, and with that he endeavours to seize hold of the bag.
“‘Now then, guv’nor,’ says I, ‘you’re a jolly sight too fast, you are, by a long way. If you give me any more of your cheek I’ll report ye.’
“‘You are not going away without satisfying me as to what you’ve got in the bag,’ says he; ‘just hand it over without further ado.’
“‘No; not if I know it,’ says I. Well, with that he seizes me by the collar of the coat, when, before he was aware of it, I slipped out of his grasp, and tripped him up. I didn’t wait for any further conversation with my gentleman, but ran my hardest; he followed, but you see I had the start of him, and cut across a field, and reached the high road again. By this means I doubled on him, but he was still giving chase when I jumped into the trap. However, he’s left behind now; but it might have been worse.”
“I am glad you were not driven to extremities,” observed Bill, in a tone of satisfaction.
“I am glad of it myself; but I was very near being copped though—precious near.”