It only took a moment for the policeman to write down the address in a notebook which he whipped out of his pocket; and then with a peremptory ‘Make way there, please!’ to the bystanders, he took the two boys from the young man who was holding them and began marching them out of the Fair ground, followed by a large crowd.
Neither child made any attempt now to struggle away, but Micky’s childish face had a look of set misery which went to the hearts of all the mothers who saw it, and presently struck even Diamond Jubilee.
Now Diamond Jubilee, though a very naughty boy, was not altogether a hardened one, and that expression on Micky’s face made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Micky had been a great softy not to stand up for himself—Diamond Jubilee, or any other sensible kid, would have jolly soon thrown the blame on the other chap if there had been the least chance of being believed—but some folks were born softies, and couldn’t help it. Anyhow, Diamond Jubilee liked Micky, and couldn’t abide his looking like that.
‘Please, sir, the other boy didn’t have nothing to do with it; he were only doing coach-wheels so as folks should throw him halfpennies,’ broke out Diamond Jubilee all of a sudden.
‘Do you mean to say he didn’t know what you were up to?’ asked the policeman in an incredulous voice.
That question spoilt it. To own that he himself had been up to anything was more than could be expected of Diamond Jubilee’s generosity. ‘I weren’t up to nothing,’ he whined; ‘I’m sure I never took the wipe. All I done were to pick it up to give the lady.’
‘Now, there’s no use in going back to that silly lie,’ said the policeman sharply, ‘for I saw you pull it out myself.’ For an instant his belief in Micky’s being an accomplice had been somewhat shaken—though the boy would surely have joined in defending himself if his conscience had been clear—but this last untruth made him set Diamond Jubilee down as an inveterate little liar whose testimony was worth nothing at all. When the child began to repeat the assertion that the other boy anyhow had had nothing to do with it, he was silenced at once with a stern ‘I can’t believe anything you say.’
As to Micky, he said not a word, partly out of a sense of chivalry towards Diamond Jubilee—if it would have been sneakish before to leave him to bear all the blame, it would be far worse now that he had been so decent—and partly because he was too proud to stand up for himself when he was sure to be disbelieved.
As the two boys and the policeman walked along more and more people kept rushing out from side streets to see what was happening, until it seemed to poor Micky that all Eastwich must be there to witness his disgrace. Well, as soon as ever he was free again, he should flee the country, he resolved fiercely. It would be unbearable to live any longer in a land where such thousands of people—Micky felt sure there must be thousands at least—where such thousands of people came to stare at you being taken to prison.
Before they had gone far, the policeman stopped at the door of a tall grim building with many windows, some of which had bars. Into this grim building he took the boys.