"Ay, and he took mine too, if it is the same," put in another. The last speaker was Schoolmaster Anderson.
"Turn him over to the watch," said an officer. "We cannot afford to have suspicious characters about. Ah, here he comes, for once in the right place."
"What means this disturbance, good people? Oh, is any one badly hurt?" As these words were spoken a caped figure with a lantern hurried up. He had a long pike in his hand, and a huge rattle hung by a leather thong about his neck.
Two or three bystanders helped raise the young man to his feet.
"He is wounded," said some one, noticing the useless left arm, which was numbed with pain, and which was bleeding.
"The prison surgeon is good enough for the likes of him," said another.
"Come with me, young man," said the watchman, putting his hand on George's shoulder. "You had better have that arm attended to. Oh! he's charged with crime, eh? That's very different."
Followed by Abel Norton, Schoolmaster Anderson, and a few idlers, the party moved down the street.
The "jig" was up now with a vengeance.
