“These are the three men, sir,” said he to Mr Rimbolt.
“Yes, sir, these are the parties,” said the inspector (who had never set eyes on the men before), advancing towards Corporal as he slowly raised himself from the ground.
Julius, greatly to the officers’ alarm, made a last attempt to assert his property in the captives, and in Corporal in particular; and in so doing came very near doing a grievous injury to the arm of the law. But Jeffreys’ authoritative order to him to come in and he down allowed the arrest to proceed without any further protest than a few discontented yaps as the cords were removed from the prisoners’ legs, and they were led off by the force.
“We had better go to Overstone, too,” said Mr Rimbolt, “and see these ruffians safely quartered. The assizes are coming on in a week or two. Do you live anywhere near here?”
“No,” said Jeffreys. “Julius and I are on a walking tour at present.”
Mr Rimbolt looked at his companion, and for the first time took notice of his travel-stained, shabby appearance.
“You mean,” said he, guessing the truth, “you have no particular address at present?”
“Quite so,” replied Jeffreys, flushing up uncomfortably.
Mr Rimbolt said nothing more just then. They had a busy hour or two at Overstone arranging for the comfortable housing of their three prisoners, until the law should decide as to their more permanent residence. Then, having taken farewell of the police, and returning towards the dog-cart, Jeffreys stopped abruptly and said, raising his hat,—
“Good-bye, sir.”