"Very well, if you will you will; but mind, don't blame me afterwards."
Reuben told the story of his adventures from the time of leaving.
"There," he said when he finished, "isn't that enough to show that I am innocent?"
"No," the chief constable said gravely, "it's not enough to prove anything, one way or the other. I am bound to say the story looks a likely one; and if it weren't for two or three matters which I heard of, from the constable who came over from Tipping, I should have no doubt about it. However, all that is for the magistrate to decide. There will be a meeting tomorrow."
"But can't I be taken before a magistrate at once? There's Captain Fidler, within a mile."
"What would be the good?" the chief constable said. "You don't suppose anyone would let you out, only on the strength of the story you have told me. He could only remand you, and you could gain nothing by it."
"Can I see my mother?" Reuben asked next.
"Yes," the constable said, "I will send her down a message, at once."
Mrs. Whitney soon came up. A neighbour had brought her in the news when Reuben had been arrested, and she was on the point of starting to inquire about it when the message arrived. She was more indignant than grieved, when she heard the charge which had been brought against Reuben.
"The idea of such a thing!" she exclaimed. "These constables don't seem to have natural sense. The idea of charging anyone who is known as a respectable young man with such a thing as that, and shutting him up without a question. Why, there can't be any evidence against you."