It came out at last, little by little, and the boy did not spare himself. After all, beyond the folly of associating with unprincipled companions, he had done little of which to be really ashamed.
His mother did not interrupt him once; but Jim will never forget the look in her eyes when he told her of the finding of the marked coin, and of his narrow escape from prison.
"Where is Dick now?" she asked when he had finished.
"Gone with the master to give information to the police. I expect he will come in on his way home; but don't you think we ought to tell his mother? She may be fidgeting about him."
"Yes; I will go round at once."
Putting on her hat and jacket, she went out, leaving Jim to wonder if the marked florin would be found in Curly's possession. A great deal might depend on that.
Meanwhile, Dick having piloted the worthy stationer to the tobacconist's shop, where the shilling was at once identified, accompanied him to the police station. Here they were shown into a sparsely-furnished room, where an inspector sat at a table writing.
After Mr. Broad had given an outline of the case, Dick was called on for his story, which he related in the most straightforward and convincing manner.
"Simple enough," remarked the police inspector, "especially if we can find the florin;" and, ringing a bell, he ordered the man who answered it to send Pedder to him.
Pedder was a short, stout, bull-necked man in plain clothes, who, in answer to his superior, said: "Curly Peters? Oh yes, I know the young gentleman quite well. I've been expecting to put my hand on his shoulder for a long time."