"I beg pardon, sir, I hope I haven't upset you, but dooty's dooty!"
Ferdy raised his head a little, and looked the constable straight in the face, without condescending to notice the half apology.
"What is it you want of me?" he said coldly.
"It's all along of that there Jesse Piggot," replied Brownrigg, "as bad a lot as ever were!"
"What's he been doing?" said Ferdy again in the same tone, rather turning the tables upon the constable, as if he—Brownrigg—and not Ferdy himself, was the one to be cross-questioned.
The man glanced round him half suspiciously.
"He was seen coming here, sir."
"Well, suppose he had come here, you can't take him up for that?" said the boy. "I'm asking you what harm he'd done."
"He got up a row at Bollins this afternoon, and half killed a poor lad—Bill Turner by name—threw him down and half stunned him."