“There ur gooes,” said Mr. Bumpkin, and, as fast as he could, pursued the thief.
“Stop un!” he cried. “Stop thic there thief; he got my watch.”
But it was a long time before Master Bumpkin’s mandate was obeyed; the value of a policeman, like that of every other commodity, depends upon his rarity. There was no policeman to be found. There was a fire escape in the middle of the street, but that was of no use to Master Bumpkin. Away went thief, and away went Bumpkin, who could “foot it,” as he said, “pooty well, old as he wur.” Nor did either the thief or himself stop until they got nearly to the bridge, when, to Bumpkin’s great astonishment, up came the thief, walking coolly towards him. This was another mystery, in addition to those mentioned by Mr. O’Rapley. But the fact was, that the hue and cry was now raised, and although Master Bumpkin did not perceive it, about a hundred people, men, women, and boys, were in full chase; and when that gentleman was, as Bumpkin thought, coolly coming towards him, he was simply at bay, run down, without hope of escape; and fully determined to face the matter out with all the coolness he could command.
“Take un,” said Bumpkin; “take un oop; thee dam scoundrel!”
“Take care what you’re saying,” said the thief. “I’m a respectable man, and there’s law in the land.”
“Yes, and thee shall have un, too, thee willin; thee stole my watch, thee knows that.”
“You’re a liar,” said the captive.
“Why thee’s got un on, dang if thee bean’t, and a wearin’ on un. Well, this bates all; take un oop, pleeceman.”
At this moment, which is always the nick of time chosen by the force, that is to say, when everything is done except the handcuffs, a policeman with a great deal of authority in his appearance came up, and plunged his hands under his heavy coat-tails, as though he were about to deliver them of the bower anchor of a ship.
“Do you give him in charge?”