The constable nodded his approval of this, and Tom looked up, his ruddy colour fading swiftly, and cried: “Oh, no! No, no, they would not! I didn’t hurt anyone, nor even take the old man’s purse!”
“What did you do?” asked the Duke.
Tom was silent for a moment. Then he muttered, staring at his boots: “Well, if you will know, it was a ginger-beer bottle!”
His worst fears were realized. The constable’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he burst into a hearty guffaw, slapping his leg with ecstasy, and saying that it beat the Dutch downright.
“ Ginger-beer bottle? ” repeated the Duke blankly.
“That’s right, sir,” said the constable, wiping his eyes. “Regular boy’s trick! You shakes the bottle up good, and out flies the cork, just like it was a pistol-shot. Lordy, lordy, to think of three growed men scared of a popping cork! It’ll be the laugh of the town, that’s what it’ll be!”
It was plain that Tom would almost have preferred to have owned to firing a pistol. He hunched his shoulder and glowered at the constable. The Duke said: “Well, thank God for that! What did you do with the bottle?”
“I threw it into the ditch,” muttered Tom. “And you need not think I meant to steal the old man’s purse, because Pa would have paid him back! And in any event it is different when one is being a highwayman.”
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong, young man!” said the constable severely. “There ain’t a mite of difference—not but that,” he added, turning despairingly to the Duke, “you’ll never get a young varmint like this here to believe you, tell him till Doomsday! All the same, they be, talking a pack of nonsense about Dick Turpin, and the like!”
The Duke, who could remember thinking that a career as a highwayman would be fraught with romance and adventure, refrained from comment. He merely said that the ginger-beer bottle must be searched for, to prove the veracity of Tom’s story; The constable agreed that this should be done; Tom was locked once more into his cell; and the Duke set off, with a junior constable, and in a hired gig, to the point on the road where Mr. Stalybridge had deposed that he had been held up. This, fortunately, was easy to locate, and after a short search the bottle was found. It was borne back in triumph to the senior constable; and after the Duke had slid a gleaming golden coin into his hand, to compensate him (he said) for all the trouble he had been put to, no one could have been more anxious than this comfortable officer to see Tom set at liberty. He favoured the Duke with some valuable information about Mr. Stalybridge, fortified with which the Duke set out to pay a call on this injured citizen.