“‘Sharp-and-mum, your worship.’
“‘And you?’
“‘Keen-and-spry, your worship.’
“‘And not a soul of you remembers anything that ever happened to you.’
“‘Not a mother’s son of us anything whatever.’
“He couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud. All the rest began to laugh at seeing him laugh! But the thing does not always go off like that. Sometimes they lay about them, these police, with their fists, till you get every tooth in your jaw smashed. Devilish big and strong these fellows, I can tell you.
“‘Take them off to the lock-up,’ said he. ‘I’ll see to them in a bit. As for you, stop here!’
“That’s me.
“‘Just you go and sit down there.’
“Where he pointed to there was paper, a pen, and ink; so thinks I, ‘What’s he up to now?’