“You’ll have to come with me.”
Merry knew it was useless to attempt to explain under such circumstances. Every one of the assembled crowd would be a witness against him.
“Very well,” he said, quietly. “I am quite willing to do so. Please do not twist my necktie off.”
“Don’t worry about your necktie!” advised the policeman, giving it a still harder twist. “I know how to deal with chaps of your caliber.”
Now of a sudden Ephraim Gallup began to grow angry. He did not fancy seeing his idol treated in such a manner, and his fists were clenched, while he glared at the officer as if contemplating hitting that worthy.
“It’s a gol-dern shame!” he grated. “This jest makes my blood bile!”
“I don’t wonder a bit,” piped the long-necked man, misunderstanding the Vermonter; “but the officer will take care of him now. He’ll get what he deserves.”
“Oh, will he!” exploded Gallup. “Waal, ef I was yeou, I’d hire myself aout to some dime museum as the human bobber. Yeou teeter jest like a certun bird that I won’t name.”
“Wh—a—at?” squealed the individual addressed, in great excitement. “This to me! Why, I’ll——”
“I wish ter great goshfrey yeou would!” hissed Ephraim, glaring at him. “I’d jest like to hev yeou try it! I’d give yeou a jolt that’d knock yeou clean inter the middle of next week!”