The conversation, if it could be so termed, was brought to a close by a man coming in and saying to the young pickpocket—
“Now then, this way.”
Cakey was placed in the dock. The trial did not last half an hour. He was found guilty, and sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment.
He considered the sentence a most lenient one, and left the court in better spirits than he had entered it. He found Peace in the passage when he was returning to the gaol.
“Vat do yer think, guv’nor? Only eighteen months. There’s for you—I’ve lost my half bull.”
Peace was too much wrapped up in his own thoughts to take any heed of the playful youth who was addressing him.
His case was the next, and as he was placed in the dock he glanced furtively round the court.
The first face he recognised was that of Robinson, the policeman, then his glance fell upon several others that were familiar to him, but he did not see any of his Sheffield friends. “So much the better,” murmured he.
Mr. Poland was engaged in earnest conversation with a police-inspector, while Mr. Douglas Straight was scanning some papers before him.
Peace was conscious that he was an object of interest, for he saw that the eyes of many persons were upon him.