"But I be the mayor—Philemon Noakes; and I'll send you to jail for assault and battery, without the option of a fine. Let me go! I'm the mayor, I tell 'ee!"
"I really think he's telling the truth," said Templeton.
Just then Noakes, kicking out, dealt Templeton a heavy blow on the ankle.
"You had better lie still, whoever you are!" said the latter, warmly. "Violence won't help you!"
"Of course not—only makes things ten times worse!" said Eves. "Catch his legs, Bob; if he isn't quiet we'll have to truss him up. I never came across such an impudent scoundrel. Here's a burglar, caught in the act, claiming to be the chief magistrate! That beats everything! How's it possible? I say, Bob, there'll be a queer scene in court to-morrow. Suppose it were true, I can't for the life of me see how the mayor on the bench and the criminal in the dock are going to arrange matters. Will he hop from one to the other, and finally sentence himself? That's a Jekyll and Hyde problem I can't solve. But here's somebody coming—the bobby, I expect."
Through the half-open door came a policeman, with handcuffs hanging from his wrists.
"Here he is, constable!" said Eves. "He's been struggling, but I dare say he'll go quietly."
"Now then, there," said the constable, "get up and come along quiet. We've been looking for you a month past. Who gives him in charge?"
"I do," said Eves, "though I suppose Mr. Templeton ought to do it. You know Mr. Templeton, constable? Temporary assistant to Mr. Wilkins."
"Ay, sure, I've seed the gentleman." Noakes had now risen, and stood before the constable, Eves on one side, Templeton on the other. His face, hitherto in shade, had come within the rays of the dim lamp.