violent on the way to the station--very violent--threatened you and
your son, and altogether he was a handful, I can till you.

MRS. BARTHWICK. What a ruffian he must be!

SNOW. Yes, ma'am, a rough customer.

JACK. [Sipping his mine, bemused.] Punch the beggar's head.

SNOW. Given to drink, as I understand, sir.

MRS. BARTHWICK. It's to be hoped he will get a severe punishment.

SNOW. The odd thing is, sir, that he persists in sayin' he took the
box himself.

BARTHWICK. Took the box himself! [He smiles.] What does he think
to gain by that?

SNOW. He says the young gentleman was intoxicated last night

[JACK stops the cracking of a nut, and looks at SNOW.]

[BARTHWICK, losing his smile, has put his wine-glass down;
there is a silence--SNOW, looking from face to face, remarks]

--took him into the house and gave him whisky; and under the
influence of an empty stomach the man says he took the box.

MRS. BARTHWICK. The impudent wretch!