"Mebbe, an' mebbe not. Ennyhow, two bob won't break me, an' I'm sorry for the kid. Wot's 'e done, Mr. Policeman?" Mr. Judd was nettled, yet unwilling to acknowledge he was wholly wrong.
"Stole a heap of diamonds. Do either of you know him?"
"Never saw him afore this mornin'."
"Never bin in my 'ouse before."
"Then come along," and Philip was tugged onward, but not before he found courage to say:
"Thank you once more, Mr. Judd. I will keep my word, never fear."
"What are you thanking him for?" said the constable.
"For believing in me," was the curt answer.
The policeman tried to extract some meaning from the words, but failed. He privately admitted that it was an extraordinary affair. How came a boy who spoke like a gentleman and was dressed like a street Arab to be wandering about London with a pocketful of diamonds and admitted to the private office of the chief diamond merchant in Hatton Garden? He gave it up, but silently thanked the stars which connected him with an important case.
At last Philip's Via Dolorosa ended in the Bridewell police station. He was paraded before the inspector in charge, a functionary who would not have exhibited any surprise had the German Emperor been brought before him charged with shoplifting.