“Then off you go. They must be mine, at any rate. Nothing can prevent that. Either give them now and begone, or delay, and you go at once to jail.”
“I won’t give them,” said Potts, desperately.
“Cato!” said the stranger, “go and fetch the policemen.”
“Stop!” cried John.
At a sign Asgeelo, who had already taken two steps toward the door, paused.
“Here, dad,” said John, “you’ve got to do it. You might as well hand over the papers. You don’t want to get into quod, I think.”
Potts turned his pale face to his son.
“Do it!” exclaimed John.
“Well,” he said, with a sigh, “since I’ve got to, I’ve got to, I suppose. You know best, Johnnie. I always said you had a long head.”
“I must go and get them,” he continued.