Very miserably passed the sluggish hours for Tommy. It was now afternoon, and he had been locked up more than two hours, during which he had indulged in a good cry.
He was looking forward to the arrival of the van which was to take him and others similarly situated to jail, when the wicket in his cell door was pushed back. The face of the jailer appeared at the aperture.
"Johnny," he exclaimed, "brace up. Here's two people wants to see you."
"Who are they?" eagerly demanded Tommy.
"How should I know? They look like swells, though, and are dressed bang up. The lady gave me a shilling."
"Is that so?" said Tommy. "Show them in at once. This isn't New Year's, but I'm receiving calls."
The door was flung open, and Mr. and Mrs. Stocker appeared in the damp, narrow passageway.
"What an awful place," exclaimed Mrs. Stocker. "Is this where they put smugglers? I declare that I'll never risk taking any more silks or laces in my trunks when I go back to the States."
"It's for all sorts, ma'am," answered the jailer.
Tommy looked at Mr. Stocker and wished him good-day.