“It depends what you call anything,” said he. “They cannot hang you; after what I should certainly have to say I doubt if they could even detain you in custody. But you would only be released on bail; the case would be sent for trial; it would get into every paper in England; your family could not stop it, your schoolfellows would devour it, you would find it difficult to live down both at home and at school. In years to come it will mean at best a certain smile at your expense! That is what they can do to you,” concluded the doctor, apologetically. “You asked me to tell you. It is better to be candid. I hoped you would bear it like a man.” Pocket was not even bearing it like a manly boy; he had flung himself back into the big chair, and broken down for the first time utterly. One name became articulate through his sobs. “My mother!” he moaned. “It’ll kill her! I know it will! Oh, that I should live to kill my mother too!” “Mothers have more lives than that; they have more than most people,” remarked Baumgartner sardonically. “You don’t understand! She has had a frightful illness, bad news of any kind has to be kept from her, and can you imagine worse news than this? She mustn’t hear it!” cried the boy, leaping to feet with streaming eyes. “For God’s sake, sir, help me to hush it up!” “It’s in the papers already,” replied Baumgartner, with a forbearing shrug. “But my part in it!” “You said it had got to come out.” “I didn’t realise all it meant—to her!” “I thought you meant to make a clean breast of it?” “So I did; but now I don’t!” cried Pocket, vehemently. “Now I would give my own life, cheerfully, rather than let her know what I’ve done—than drag them all through that!” “Do you mean what you say?” Baumgartner appeared to be forming some conditional intention. “Every syllable!” said Pocket. “Because, you know,” explained the doctor, “it is a case of now or never so far as going to Scotland Yard is concerned.” “Then it’s never!” “I must put it plainly to you. It’s not too late to do whatever you decide, but you must decide now. I would still go with you to Scotland Yard, and the chances are that they would still accept the true story of to-day. I have told you what I believe to be the worst that can happen to you; it may be that rather more may happen to me for harbouring you all day as I have done. I hope not, but I took the law into my own hands, and I I am prepared to abide by the law if you so decide this minute.” “I have decided.” “Mind you, it would mean putting yourself unreservedly in my hands, at any rate for the present,” said Baumgartner, impressively. “Better come to Scotland Yard this minute than go back to school and blab about the whole thing there!” “I shouldn’t do that.”