“We must let my uncle know at once.”
“Yes, sir, I would,” said Jem grimly; “I’d holloa.”
“Don’t be stupid. What’s the good?”
“Not a bit, sir.”
“But my uncle—my mother, what will they think?”
“I’ll tell yer, sir.”
“Yes?”
“They’ll think you’ve run away, so as not to have to go ’fore the magistrates.”
“Jem, what are you saying? Think I’m a thief?”
“I didn’t say that, sir; but so sure as you don’t go home, they’ll think you’ve cut away.”