He had arrived at this stage when a voice at his side sent a cold shiver down his back.

"Hullo, kid, got you at last, then? That's what you call waiting where I left you, do you?"

"I didn't promise to wait," said Fisher. "You told me to."

"It's the same thing. Now you'll come along with me, my beauty."

Had Fisher minor been anything but a raw hand, it might have occurred to him that it would take Percy Wheatfield all his time to convey a boy his, Fisher's, size against his will into Forder's house. But such is the force of innocence on one side, and authority on the other, that the new boy laid down his arms, and followed his captor meekly into the enemy's citadel. Just as they were entering, a posse of the enemy appeared on the scene, consisting, among other supporters of the Modern cause, of Ramshaw, Cottle, Lickford, and Cash.

"Here's a game, Rammy," cried Percy. "Got him at last! This is the villain, this is the murdering, highway forger. Come on, you kid; you're in for it."

It did occur to Fisher minor at this juncture that a change of air might be refreshing. But it was too late now. The enemy had him fast. There was no getting out of the "warm weather" which had been promised him.

"Come on--we'll have a regular Old Bailey of it," cried Percy. "Go and tell the fellows, and collar some witnesses, do you hear; and tell the hangman he'll be wanted in half an hour."

This promise of judicial dispatch was not consoling to the prisoner, who had grave doubts as to the impartiality of the tribunal before which he was to be arraigned. He wondered if Ashby, or D'Arcy, or any of his friends would appear among the witnesses.

The trial took place in the room jointly owned by Percy, Ramshaw, Cottle, and Lickford. A chair was planted on the bed for the accommodation of the judge. The fender was brought out in front of the chest of drawers for a witness-box; while Rix minimus, who officiated as jury, sat on a footstool on the table.

As for the prisoner, a dock was provided for him in the form of a wash- stand, out of which the basin had been removed to make room for his uneasy person in the vacant hole.

"Now, you chaps," said Percy, who had naturally appointed himself, in addition to his other offices, "usher of the court", "no larks. Shut up. This is a big job. This young cad cheated at Elections."

Here the door opened, and Dangle looked in.

"What on earth is all this row?" he said.

"A trial. I say, Dangle, will you be judge? It's a Cla.s.sic kid that cheated at Elections."

"No, really, I didn't," said Fisher, painfully aware that so far, the trial was going against him.

Dangle, who fancied something might come of this, was condescending enough to say he didn't mind playing at judge, if they liked. Whereat, amid cheers, he was voted to the chair on the bed, where he sat rather precariously, and ordered silence in the court.

"Who is the prisoner?"

"Go on, kid, tell 'em your name," said Percy, encouragingly.

"Fisher minor--really I didn't do anything," said the prisoner.

"What's the charge?" said the judge.

"You see, it's this way," said Percy, forgetting to go inside the fender--"Bam, and Cot, and Lick and I were having a ripping eight-handed mill in here the other day--"

The prisoner thought over all his crimes, and could recall nothing that was even remotely connected with an eight-handed mill.

"Cot and Lick had got gloves with no horse-hair in them, you know, so they lammed it pretty hard; but Ram and I were just scrunching them up--"

"Crams! You never got near us. My nose wasn't hit once," said Cottle.

"No; but we had you in the ribs."

"Under the belt," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lickford.

"No, it wasn't--I say, Dangle," said the witness, "it was just on his waistcoat pocket, and he says that's below the belt. If he likes to wear his belt round his neck, of course he gets. .h.i.t under."

"And if you wear yours round your ankle, there's not much room for your bread-basket," retorted Cottle.

"And where does Fisher minor come in?" asked the judge; "was he in the middle of the mill?"

"No. You see, we were just in the middle of it, and these jolly cheats were beginning to cave in--"

"Ho, ho!--It would take a lot more than you to make us--"

"Order in the court--go on, Wheatfield."

"There you are--shut up, you chaps--beginning to cave in, when Clapperton yelled for me, and I had to go."

"Lucky job for you," growled Cottle. "You wouldn't have been able to go at all five minutes later."

Whereupon Percy appealed to the court to keep order.

"Fire away," said the judge, "that's nothing to do with the prisoner."

"Oh, hasn't it!--You see, Clapperton wanted me to take a letter to Yorke. It must have been a screamer, for Yorke yelled when he read it.

I wanted him to let me finish our mill first, but--"

"Who, Yorke?"

"No, Clapperton. If there'd been time for another round--"

"Now, then, don't let's have any more of that mill," said the judge.

"That's just what they felt at the time, wasn't it, Lick?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Cottle.

"Did we?--wait till you see, my beauty," said the witness. "I wish you wouldn't interrupt. Oh, so I had to go, and this kid came and caught me a jolly crack in the stomach."

"Which side of your belt?" inquired Lickford.

"The side you'll get it hot, my boy, next time I catch you," retorted Percy.

"That'll be under, you bet," said Lickford.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," said the prisoner, who began to hope that the charge against him was to prove much less serious than he had at first feared, "I apologise."

"Shut up, don't talk to me--talk to the jury."

As the jury at this moment was struggling manfully to protect his ha.s.sock from the depredations of Cash, who was anxious to investigate its interior, it was not much use addressing him; so Fisher subsided, and wished the hole of Percy's wash-stand had been at least so much easier in diameter as to allow him room to sigh.

"Fire away," said the judge, "we shall be all night at this."