Master Foss did not attempt to longer act the part of leader.
The situation was so grave that he understood he was not competent to deal with it in a proper manner, and to Bob was given the management of the entire affair.
Master Green entered the station-house, his friends following close behind, with a more subdued air than he had worn when explaining what might be done. The very atmosphere of the place seemed to oppress him, and it was an exceedingly humble boy who presented himself to the sergeant at the desk, trying to render his voice steady as he said hesitatingly:—
“Look here, Mister, that cop just brought in a feller from the country what wasn’t doin’ any harm, an’ we’ve come to see if we can’t get him out.”
“Oh, wasn’t doin’ any harm, eh? The officer brought him here just because of that?”
“That’s the truth of it,” Bob replied firmly. “Us fellers got into a row with Sim Jones’ crowd ’cause they stole our grub, an’ Josiah was along, so he pitched in, of course. It wasn’t his fight; but he was helpin’ his friends, do you see?”
“Yes, I see. He was fighting, and so were you, according to your story.”
“That’s it, that’s jest it,” Bob said eagerly; and now Tom came forward by his partner’s side, as if thinking it might strengthen the cause. “We’re the ones what made all the trouble, an’ you oughter ’rest us instead of him. Why, look here, Mister, that feller’s father’s comin’ here to-morrow mornin’ to take him home, an’ what kind of a scrape will the old man be in when he finds his boy locked up in jail?”
“His boy should avoid making trouble for his father, by not fighting.”
“I’ve jest told you it didn’t happen that way. We started the row, an’ I s’pose he couldn’t help hisself, so he got into the fuss. You see, he didn’t seem to know what was meant when we hollered ‘cops!’; but stood still like a chump till the officer had him by the back of the neck. If he’d belonged in the city, that big feller never’d caught him; but he was green, an’ now we want you to let him go.”