When he awoke a constable stood by his bedside, with two of his assistants a few feet farther away.
"Sorry, sir," said the constable. "I don't like to wake a gentleman, sir, and still less in a case like this. If it was only a common criminal, sir, I shouldn't mind, but with a young gentleman, my duty ain't no ways a pleasant job."
"What do you mean, you ruffian?" angrily asked Westover springing out of bed. "Why do you presume to—"
"'Taint presumin' I reckon," answered the constable, "when I've got this fer my authority. Read it, sir, and see."
Boyd hastily glanced at the paper. It was a warrant for his arrest on a charge of burglary.
He laughed a little, as he proceeded to dress, saying:
"Of course this is a ludicrous mistake, but you are not to blame for it. Those who are will have to answer for their blundering. I'm ready. Take me to the magistrate."
"He don't git up this soon in the mornin', sir. He was woke up to 'tend to this thing, an' he wa'n't in no pleasant frame o' mind 'bout it nuther. I reckon he'll lay abed late this mornin' to make up his lost sleep, like. I don't reckon he'll show hisself in court till 'long 'bout noon."
"Where will you take me, then?"
"I reckon it'll have to be the lock-up, sir."