"That is the lad we are after, Blott. Lay hold of him, and see that he doesn’t get away." Upon this the latter, winking heavily, as if to collect his wits, came forward, and laying his hand on my arm, said: "Hold on, my lad, I want you." "What for?" I asked, staring at him. "For company mebbe, and mebbe because I’ve a summons for you," he answered, good-naturedly. "A summons! What’s that?" I asked, confused, not understanding fully what he meant. "It’s the beginnin’ of trouble for you, I’m afeered; but what’s the world comin’ to, Pickle. Don’t children learn nothin’ nowdays, not to know what a summons is?" "Never mind that," the savage little man exclaimed; "but tell him and march along." "Well, sonny, it’s an order to take you to court," the other answered, placidly. "To court!" I exclaimed, striving to free myself. "To the justice’s office, innocent. Where else could it be?" he answered, taking a firmer hold of my jacket. "Why? I’ve done nothing, for we have just got here," I answered, still attempting to get away. "Mebbe, but don’t ask me, for blister my nose if I know; but quit wrigglin’; you’re harder to hold than an eel." "Well, I’m not going to any justice’s office," I answered, slipping out of my jacket and starting to run. "Hello, my bird!" he cried, catching hold of me. "Now keep quiet, or I’ll put the come-alongs on you, an’ I’d hate to do that, you’re so young an’ fresh." "You are a bigger boy than he, Blott, and don’t know half as much," the little man here interposed. "What are you about? Are you going to stand here all day wrangling with him?" "If it was you, Pickle, I’d show you how spry I could be," Blott answered, eying the other. Seeing no way of escape, I called at the top of my voice to Uncle Job, who had stopped a few feet away, and stood beside Mr. Lincoln, watching the loading of the boat. Hearing my cry and seeing the officer, they turned and hurried back. "What have you got your hand on that lad for, officer?" Uncle Job asked, as he came up. "’Cause I’m attached to him," he answered, winking stupidly at Mr. Lincoln. "What do you mean! Let go of him, I say!" Uncle Job demanded, advancing with a determined air. "Yes, when I’ve delivered him to the justice, as the summons says, an’ not before; so don’t git red in the face or meddle," the constable answered, facing Uncle Job and straightening up. "The summons! What summons? There is some mistake, man! No one has issued a summons for him, for we haven’t been here five minutes." "You’ve another guess, my friend. I only know what I know, an’ as the fee is small I’m not ’tending night-school to increase my learnin’. So stand back an’ don’t interfere," the constable answered, good-naturedly, but as one in the right. "What reason is there for issuing the summons? Surely you must know that?" Uncle Job asked, bewildered.