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Blankly he regarded the miserable face of his interlocutor, one huge paw of a hand softly and surreptitiously caressing its fellow, "Nay glory be! I am not." "Har!" shrilled the Voice, its owner, fat red arms akimbo, blocking up the doorway, "Nick, me useless man! ye kin prate t' me 'bout arrestin' hoboes.
Sheriff, take charge of the prisoner. Where is the sheriff, Mr. Clerk?" "Please the Court," said the prosecuting attorney, "Sheriff Watson is not here to-day. He is lyin' sick out to his ranch. He was injured, yo' Honah, in arrestin' Ike Anderson, and he has not yet recovered." "Well, who is in charge of this prisoner?" said the Court. "There ought to be some one to take care of him."
We have no hand in makin' the laws, or in enforcin' 'em; we are not summoned on jury; and yet we're asked to do the work of constables and sheriffs who are paid for arrestin' criminals, an' for protectin' 'em from mobs, which they don't do." "I have no doubt every word you say is true, Mr. Taylor, and such a state of things is unjust, and will some day be different, if I can help to make it so.
"I can't see Applegate arrestin' him. He'll fight, Dug will. My notion is he'll take to the hills and throw off all pretense. If he does he'll be the worst killer ever was known in this part of the country. You an' Crawford want to look out for him, Dave." "Crawford says he wants me to be treasurer of the company, Bob. You and I are to manage it, he says, with Burns doing the drilling."
I'll trouble you for the loan of five-and-twenty pound. P'raps you may ask for it five minits artervards, p'raps I may say I von't pay, and cut up rough. You von't think o' arrestin' your own son for the money, and sendin' him off to the Fleet, will you, you unnat'ral wagabone?" The elder Mr. Weller, having grasped the idea, laughed till he was purple.
"'T aint likely they'll do much to a leetle feller like that, I guess," he said, searching the constable's face. "Dunno," said Barton, passing on. Solomon, much concerned, leaned on his rake and watched him enter the Edwards house. Jim had disappeared; there was some delay. Mrs. Peaslee came to the door. "Arrestin' that Ed'ards boy, be they, Solomon?" she said.
Think there's anythin' in the rumor that Mavin Newton's comin'?" "Hope not," said the sheriff, assuming an official look and feeling of the suspender to which was affixed his badge of office. "Don't want to have no arrestin' to do durin' Old Home Week." "Calc'late to take him in if he comes?" "Duty," said Sheriff Watts, "is duty." "When it hain't a pleasure," said Scattergood.
Arrestin' boys for burglary, when the worst land-shark in the country is runnin' a bunco-game right under yer face an' eyes! Go over an' arrest them fellers, arrest that there Snider!" The voice of Snider was now heard, imploring aid. "Is that Constable Flanders? Mr. Flanders, come to our assistance! Our mast is broken. Professor Von Bieberstein and I are here."
Peaslee expected him; nevertheless his appearance gave him a disagreeable shock. Suppose the constable had been coming for him! "Ain't arrestin' anybody down this way, be ye?" he called, with a feeble attempt at jocularity. Perhaps, after all "Looks like it," said Barton, succinctly. Mr. Peaslee stepped to the fence.
Hiram was fully as doleful in regard to the possibilities of the law. "Once they get old Soup-bone behind bars on them trespass cases," he said, "he'll stay there, all right. They'll fix it somehow you needn't worry. I reckon they'll be arrestin' him any minute now. They've got cases enough marked down." "We'll see about that," snapped the Cap'n.
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