“And where do I get it?”
“At the station house, I think.”
Samuel did not much fancy a visit to the station house, which he knew far too well already; but he would have gone into a den of lions for the sake of his cause. So, bright and early the next morning, he set out. With Mrs. Stedman's help he had persuaded Sophie that she must return to the Wygants, and so he walked part of the way with her.
There was a new sergeant at the desk, an Irishman. “Please, sir,” said the boy, “is this where I get a permit?”
“For what?” asked the other.
“To hold a meeting on the street, sir.”
“What sort of a meeting?”
“Why—I've just got something to say to the people, sir.”
“Something to say to the people!” echoed the other; and then, suddenly, “What's your name?”
“Samuel Prescott, sir.”