Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Grandparents -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh indeed! and who was it then that told you to come here about the
children to ask the way, so that you could take them home, you know, and
get the reward all nice and handy? You thought maybe you'd get it
straight away, and that we'd send 'em home for you--was that what father
or mother thought?"
Tim looked up, completely puzzled.
"I don't know anything about a reward," he said, "and I haven't no
father or mother. Di----" but here he stopped short. "Diana told me to
come to you," he was going to have said, when it suddenly struck him
that the gipsy girl had bid him beware of mentioning any names.
"Who?" said the superintendent sharply.
"I can't say," said Tim. "It was a friend o' mine--that's all I can
say--as told me to come here."
"A friend, eh? I'm thinking we'll have to know some more about some of
your friends before we're done with you. And where is these same
children, then? You can tell us that anyway!"
"No," said Tim, beginning to take fright, "I can't. They'd be
afeared--dreadful--if they saw one o' your kind. I'll find my own way to
Sandle'ham if you can't tell it me," and he turned to go.
But the policeman called Simpkins, at a sign from his superior, caught
hold of him.
"Not so fast, young man, not so fast," said Boyds. "You'll have to tell
us where these there children are afore you're off."
"I can't--indeed I can't--they'd be so frightened," said Tim. "Let me
go, and I'll try to get them to come back here with me--oh do let me
go!"
But Simpkins only held him the faster.
"Shut him up in there for a bit," said Boyds, pointing to a small inner
room opening into the one where they were,--"shut him in there till he
thinks better of it," and Simpkins was preparing to do so when Tim
turned to make a last appeal. "Don't lock me up whatever you do," he
said, clasping his hands in entreaty; "they'll die of fright if they're
left alone. I'd rather you'd go with me nor leave them alone. Yes, I'll
show you where they are if you'll let me run on first so as they won't
be so frightened."
Simpkins glanced at Boyds--he was a kinder man than the superintendent
and really sharper, though much less conceited. He was half inclined to
believe in Tim.
"What do you say to that?" he asked.
But Boyds shook his head.
"There's some trick in it. Let him run on first--I daresay! The
children's safe enough with those as sent him here to find out. No, no;
lock him up, and I'll step round to Mr. Bartlemore's,"--Mr. Bartlemore
was the nearest magistrate,--"and see what he thinks about it all. It'll
not take me long, and it'll show this young man here we're in earnest.
Lock him up."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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