"If you ever get out alive, remember me to my friends, out there.
Tell 'em I passed away, thinking of them."

"Silence in the Court!" cried Gregory.

The constable was now in a fury.

"If he locks up a man for banjo-playing--" murmured Mr. Daddles,--

"He'll have us burned at the stake," suggested Jimmy Toppan.

I had been feeling very unhappy ever since we arrived in the
police-station. It looked to me as if we were in a pretty bad fix.
The constable was so savage toward everybody it didn't seem
possible that he would believe that we had broken into the house
by mistake. Also, I was so tired that I was ready to drop. We had
been up since four o'clock that morning, and it was now after
midnight. It seemed to be years since we had left the
"Hoppergrass," and during the last few hours we had walked over a
dozen miles.

"Now," said the constable, "we'll make short work of you. Names?"

He really seemed to be less indignant with us, than with the
banjo-player. Burglary was a smaller offence in his eyes than
"disturbin' the peace,"--with a banjo.

He soon had the names of Edward Mason, James Rogers Toppan, and
Samuel Edwards added to his list.