“I am not here to take any change, as you term it, but I shall have to take you, and you had better put on your coat and hat and come along with me to Bow-street.”
Mr. Wrench had observed upon his first entrance a sort of trap-door in the centre of the room. The boards had been cut away so as to afford a place of retreat for the “smasher.” Had he succeeded in passing through this into the cellar below, he would doubtless have succeeded in making his escape, but our detective had the forethought to stand on the trap while he was interrogating the man, Dawes.
“You see,” he said, with admirable coolness, addressing himself to the smasher, “there is no chance for you to effect an escape, so come on at once. The game is up.”
“Curses on you!” exclaimed Dawes. “You’re a meddling dirty crew, the whole lot of you, and if I had my way you would have been sent to kickereboo long ago.”
“Oh, I dare say—but you see fellows of your class are not permitted to have it all your own way. Now then, man, look sharp. Put on your coat and hat at once, or otherwise I shall have to take you as you are.”
The man was only partially dressed, having on only his shirt and trousers.
In appearance he was a ruffian of the very worst type, and had there been a chance he would have offered an obstinate resistance, but he was taken by surprise and did not see very clearly any way of getting out of his present difficulty.
“Vell,” he said, in a sulky tone, “if yer vants me, which I ’spose yer do, I’d better put on my togs and be off with you.”
No. 56.
