‘Yes, I saw you turning coach-wheels to take off attention from what your friend was doing,’ was the gruff answer. ‘I know the dodge. It’s just the way you little thieves always work.’
Micky’s face turned very white under its dirt.
‘We’re not thieves!’ he began hotly, but suddenly broke off. He could not say truthfully that Diamond Jubilee was not a thief, and it would be sneakish to stand up for himself at Diamond Jubilee’s expense. So Micky pressed his lips tightly together, and tried hard to keep them from quivering. He was not going to cry like a baby before all these people.
‘I shall have to take down your name and address, ma’am,’ said the policeman to a frightened-looking lady who was standing near, and whom Micky now noticed for the first time, ‘for you’ll be wanted to prosecute these boys.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to be hard on such children, especially as I’ve got the handkerchief back,’ she answered nervously.
‘It will be the best possible thing for them,’ he answered in a low voice; ‘they belong to a regular thieves’ school, and we’ve been watching long enough for an opportunity of breaking it up. Will you kindly hold the boys while I write the address?’ he added aloud to a stout young man.
The stout young man came forward willingly enough and took hold of an arm of each boy with a firm grip from which Diamond Jubilee tried vainly to wriggle away. As for Micky, he stood as still as a little statue, and held his head high.
It only took a moment for the policeman to write down the address in a notebook which he whipped out of his pocket; and then with a peremptory ‘Make way there, please!’ to the bystanders, he took the two boys from the young man who was holding them and began marching them out of the Fair ground, followed by a large crowd.
Neither child made any attempt now to struggle away, but Micky’s childish face had a look of set misery which went to the hearts of all the mothers who saw it, and presently struck even Diamond Jubilee.
Now Diamond Jubilee, though a very naughty boy, was not altogether a hardened one, and that expression on Micky’s face made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Micky had been a great softy not to stand up for himself—Diamond Jubilee, or any other sensible kid, would have jolly soon thrown the blame on the other chap if there had been the least chance of being believed—but some folks were born softies, and couldn’t help it. Anyhow, Diamond Jubilee liked Micky, and couldn’t abide his looking like that.