"That is the lad we are after, Blott. Lay hold of him, and see that he doesn't get away."
Upon this the latter, winking heavily, as if to collect his wits, came forward, and laying his hand on my arm, said:
"Hold on, my lad, I want you."
"What for?" I asked, staring at him.
"For company mebbe, and mebbe because I've a summons for you," he answered, good-naturedly.
"A summons! What's that?" I asked, confused, not understanding fully what he meant.
"It's the beginnin' of trouble for you, I'm afeered; but what's the world comin' to, Pickle. Don't children learn nothin' nowdays, not to know what a summons is?"
"Never mind that," the savage little man exclaimed; "but tell him and march along."
"Well, sonny, it's an order to take you to court," the other answered, placidly.
"To court!" I exclaimed, striving to free myself.