”‘Being on unoccupied premises, supposed for an unlawful purpose—’ eh?” suggested the man on my right.
“That’s it,” replied the other, who had first spoken to me.
Then I was dragged into a police-station.
Chapter Twenty Six.
Queer Straits.
“Well, constable, what’s the charge?” asked the inspector on duty, turning on his stool and surveying me critically.
“Found him getting through the window of a house in Angel Court, Drury Lane, sir. The place is unoccupied, and we arrested him in the act of coming out,” replied the man nearest me.
“Stolen anything?”