"Come as usual in the morning, Hartland," added his master. "You will be required to give evidence at the police-court."
"And thank your lucky stars," remarked Mr. Farrant, "that you won't be in the dock. Your friend here has saved you from that."
Jim recognized this fact fully, and was never slow to acknowledge it either to himself or to others. Slinking home by a roundabout way, he entered the house, where his mother was awaiting him somewhat anxiously.
"You're late, my boy," said she. "I'm afraid your supper has got cold."
"It doesn't matter, mother, thank you. I'm not hungry."
His mother looked curiously at him, wondering what had happened.
"Don't you feel well?" she asked.
"My head aches a bit. There's been a bother at the shop."
"Try to eat your supper," said she gently. "You can tell me about it afterwards."
Jim did his best in order to please her, but the attempt was not very successful. He was thinking of his marvellous escape, and how, but for Dick, he would now be locked up in a prison cell. His mother watched him closely, and with something like fear in her heart; but, being a tactful woman, she did not press him to tell her his story.