“Well, it’s the other fellows.”
“We may as well have another go of chocolates now, in case they get squashed up going in,” suggested Coote, who avoided the legal aspect of the case.
The door opened at last, and our heroes, some of whom knew the ways of the place, made a stampede over the forms and through the witness-box into the front seat reserved for the use of the public, where they spread themselves out luxuriously, and celebrated their achievement by a further tax on the friendly Duffield’s creams.
The court rapidly filled. The interest which Tom White’s case had evoked had grown into positive excitement since his arrest, and our heroes had reason to congratulate themselves on their punctuality as they saw the crowded forms behind them and the jostling group at the door.
“There’s Webster at the back; shall you nod to him?” asked Heathcote.
“Yes—better,” said Dick, speaking for the “Firm.”
Whereupon all three turned their backs on the bench and nodded cheerily to Mr Webster, who never saw them, so busy was he in edging his way to a seat.
Having discharged this public duty our heroes resumed their seats just in time to witness the arrival of the usher of the court, followed by a man in a wig, and a couple of reporters.
“It’s getting hot, I say,” said Dick, speaking more of his emotions than of the state of the atmosphere.
It got hotter rapidly; for two of the Templeton police appeared on the scene and looked hard at the front public bench. Then the solicitors’ seats filled up, and the magistrates’ clerk bustled in to his table. And before these alarming arrivals had well brought the perspiration to our heroes’ brows, the appearance of two magistrates on the bench sent up the temperature to tropical.