"Sure," said the other. "Why not?"

"But," he exclaimed, "I've not done anything. I can't help it. I--"

He started to drag back, and the man twisted a huge hand, in his
collar, choking him. "Do you want to be hit?" he growled.

So Samuel went on. But sobs shook him, convulsive sobs of terror and
despair, and tears of shame rolled down his cheeks. He was going to
jail!

"What's the matter with you?" said the policeman after a bit. "Why
don't you be quiet?"

"You've no business to arrest me," wailed the boy. "I haven't done
anything, and I couldn't help it. I've no place to go and no money.
And it's not my fault."

"You can tell that to the judge," replied the other.

"But--but what have I done? Why--"

"Shut up!" said the officer, and gave another twist at his throat. And
after that Samuel was quiet.




CHAPTER V