inclined to listen to reason than the constables. "Everyone who
breaks the law has a good excuse, my lad," he said. "If we
listened to all of them we might as well close up this place. You
can tell your story to the magistrate in the morning. You'll be
well treated tonight, and you're better off with us than running
around the country -- a lad of your age! If I were your father, I
should see to it that you were in bed and asleep before this."

There was no arguing with such a man, especially when he was
sleepy. So Harry submitted, very quietly, to being put into a
cell. He was not treated like a common prisoner, that much he was
grateful for. His cell was really a room, with windows that were
not even barred. And he saw that he could be very comfortable
indeed.

"You'll be all right here," said one of the constables. "Don't
worry, my lad. You'll be let off with a caution in the morning.
Get to sleep now -- it's late, and you'll be roused bright and
early in the morning."

Harry smiled pleasantly, and thanked the man for his good advice.
But he had no intention whatever of taking it. He did not even
take off his clothes, though he did seize the welcome chance to us
the washstand that was in the room. He had been through a good
deal since his last chance to wash and clean up, and he was grimmy
and dirty. He discovered, too, that he was ravenously hungry.
Until that moment, he had been too active, too busy with brain and
body, to notice his hunger.

However, there was nothing to be done for that now. He and Dick