"I'm surrounded," thought George, slowing down. He looked about him for a last chance, and swore at his slender opportunities. Nothing presented itself but a tall old oak.
To be surrounded and taken like a runaway convict was too galling; George made for the tree and prepared to climb. His breath was nearly done, but he easily reached the lower branches, and by the time a ring of twenty men had reached the vicinity, was able to pull himself nearly to the top.
"What's he done?" asked a farm labourer, as Gray and his colleagues in a profuse state of perspiration joined the group.
"We're after him," said Busby.
"You needn't tell us that, mate," said another man. "What do yer want him for?"
"Set fire to the railway station," said Gray.
"Liar!" came a voice from the clouds.
"Go up after him," said Parrott, pushing Busby forward.
"Let Jimmy go," said Busby.
"Keep 'em off," said George. "They're after my money!"