“To the county jail.”
“Where is the tin box?”
“In the hands of the man from whom you stole it, There, I have answered your questions, and have no more to say.”
“What do you think will be done with me?” asked Temple, anxiously.
The officer shrugged his shoulders.
“Gentlemen of your profession,” he said, “are generally well informed on that point. If found guilty, you will be boarded at the expense of the county for a term of years.”
“Curse the luck!” uttered Temple, savagely, and then was silent.
Philip had left them, and was on his way home, glad to get out of his predicament, but more incensed than ever against Harry for the mortification he had put upon him in compelling him to beg his pardon.
“I’ll get even with him, see if I don’t,” he muttered.
When Harry and the officer had lodged their prisoner in jail, the latter said: