He was making this change when half a dozen men unexpectedly entered. "You are my prisoner," said one, catching hold of Mr. Lang by the coat-collar. "Tropes, secure the other."
They were now both in custody, and the officers, after a little search, discovered the broken box, and arrested the black man.
"For what am I arrested?" inquired Mr. Lang.
"That you will soon know," was the reply.
"But I demand an answer now. I will not move a step till I get it."
"What! what's that?" said a stout, rough-looking man, striking the prisoner, and treating him more like a dog than what he was.
"I demand an answer to my inquiry. For what am I arrested?"
"He's a dangerous man," remarked another of the officers; "it's best to put him in irons;" whereupon he drew from a capacious pocket a pair of rusty manacles. Mr. Lang, and his two fellows in trouble, found it best to coolly submit, and did so. Five minutes passed, and the cold walls of a prison enclosed them.
CHAPTER III.
Daylight breaks, and the dwellers upon a thousand hills rejoice in the first rays of the morning sun.