"My name is Silas Appleboy, and I am a taxpayer and a freeholder. I demand that you arrest this woman." The policeman, somewhat impressed by the other's vehemence and the statement that he is a freeholder (the meaning of which the official naturally does not understand), inquires a little more genially where the lady is.
"In that shop," replies her master. The crowd, with a whoop, rushes at the door, but the pawnbroker is standing inside in an attitude of defence. The policeman, closely followed by Appleboy, pushes his way through the mob, and raps loudly.
"Stand back there, now," shouts the officer, waving his club. The small boys shrink back, leaving Appleboy in the centre of the ring. The pawnbroker opens the door. Maria is upon her knees, calling vaguely upon Heaven to defend her. The silver teapot reposes upon the counter. The officer grasps Maria roughly by the shoulder and yanks her to her feet.
"Get up there and pull yerself together!" he exclaims. "What's yer name?"
"Me name is Maria Holohan," she replies hysterically.
"Do yer know that man?" continues the officer, pointing at Appleboy.
"Shure, I know him," is the answer. "Haven't I worked for him for fourteen years?"
"Did you steal his teapot?" asked the officer.
"Oh, Holy Mother! Holy Mother!" wails Maria. "I took a dhrop too much, an' shure I didn't know what I was doin' at all, at all."