“Woolwich. ’Tillery.”
“No. And you are not going.”
“Oh, ain’t I?”
“No,” I said. “You are going home. Your mother must be very anxious about us.”
“I’d forgotten all about her,” cried Esau. “I say, look: here’s old Demp.”
If I had obeyed my first inclination I should have turned down the first street to avoid our late employer; but I kept on boldly, as he came towards us, and I expected that he would go by, but he stopped short, and looked from one to the other.
“Oh, here you are,” he said; “look out, my lads, I have not done yet. If you think I am going to be beaten like this, you are—”
“Come on, Esau,” I whispered, and we did not hear the end of his threat.
“There!” cried Esau. “Now what do you say? He’ll be giving us into custody again. ’Tillery’s our only chance. He daren’t touch us there. But I say, he isn’t going back to the office. Let’s run and get what’s in our desks. There’s my old flute.”
“I thought you did not want to be given into custody again?” I cried. “Why, if we go and try to touch anything there, and he catches us, he is sure to call in the police.”