“Bass hasn’t come yet,” said Jennie, and then told the story of the evening’s adventure in explanation.
Gerhardt left his work at once, walking back with his two children to a point where he could turn off to go to the jail. He guessed what had happened, and his heart was troubled.
“Is that so, now!” he repeated nervously, rubbing his clumsy hands across his wet forehead.
Arrived at the station-house, the sergeant in charge told him curtly that Bass was under arrest.
“Sebastian Gerhardt?” he said, looking over his blotter; “yes, here he is. Stealing coal and resisting an officer. Is he your boy?”
“Oh, my!” said Gerhardt, “Ach Gott!” He actually wrung his hands in distress.
“Want to see him?” asked the Sergeant.
“Yes, yes,” said the father.
“Take him back, Fred,” said the other to the old watchman in charge, “and let him see the boy.”
When Gerhardt stood in the back room, and Sebastian was brought out all marked and tousled, he broke down and began to cry. No word could cross his lips because of his emotion.