“Please, sir, I ain’t a-doing nothink,” snivelled the lad, screwing his knuckles into his eyes, as if preparing to cry, each word being sandwiched between a sob and a sniff. “I—ain’t—a-doing—nothink!”
“Doing nothing?” echoed the Captain indignantly, overcome apparently by the enormity of the culprit’s offence. “Why, you young scoundrel, here you have been and gone and committed a burglary, breaking into a railway-carriage like this, besides nearly frightening the occupants to death; and, you call that nothing! Do you know, if I were on the Bench, I could sentence you to penal servitude?”
“Oh, pray don’t, Captain Dresser, please!” cried out Bob and Nellie together, impressed with the terrible powers of the law as thus presented to their view and the extent of the Captain’s authority. “He really did not mean any harm, poor fellow, I am sure he didn’t!”
“Then what did he do it for?” asked the old gentleman snappishly, though both could see, from the merry twinkle in his eyes, that he was not in such a bad temper as he pretended to be. “What did he do it for? That’s what I’d like to know!”
But, even the stranger lad, who had so unceremoniously intruded into the carriage, seemed to become aware as he confronted him that the Captain’s ‘bark was worse than his bite’; for, dropping his snivel and looking his questioner manfully in the face, he at once went on to tell who he was and explain the reasons for his unexpected appearance on the scene—his earnest accents and honest outspokenness testifying to the truth of his statement in the opinion, not only of Bob and Nellie, but of the whilom grumpy old Captain as well.
The lad said that his name was Dick Allsop and that he belonged to Guildford, the last station the train had passed, and the only one at which it had stopped since leaving Waterloo. His father had died some years before, but his mother had lately got married again to a regular brute of a man, who behaved very badly to her and treated Dick, he averred, so cruelly, that he could not stand it any longer. That very morning, Dick stated; he had beaten him so unmercifully that he had suddenly determined to run away to sea; and this was the reason why he wanted to get to Portsmouth.
“But, you might have entered the carriage like a Christian!” interposed the Captain at this point of the lad’s story. “The train stopped long enough at Guildford for you to get in through the doorway, like any ordinary passenger, surely?”
“No, sir, I couldn’t,” answered the other. “I couldn’t a-done it.”
“But why not?”
“Because, sir,” snivelled the lad, “I didn’t have no money, sir.”