They led me into the room, where they were eating some bread and cheese.
"He doesn't answer the description," said one of the men, glancing at a paper.
"I'm not so sure about that," said the officer. "He's the exact height, and that's the same coloured hair."
"Now I come to think of it," said the keeper, "I believe I saw that boy pass along here this morning, along with two trampers. That coat with the pocket torn. Yes, and red lining showing. I thought I'd seen them."
"Well, boy," said the officer, "what's your name?"
"Jim Davis," I answered.
"What were you doing with the two trampers, Jim?" he asked.
"Please, sir," I said, "I wasn't doing anything with them."
"Ah," said one of the runners. "These young rogues is that artful, they never do nothing anywhere."
"You'll live to be hanged, I know," said the other runner.