from the depths of the narrow little tube of a watch-pocket in which the strange gentleman had so kindly inserted it.
"Now, sir, if you please!" again shouted the impatient collector. "Now, sir!"
But the more impatient the man became, the more nervous grew Mr. Sandboys, and though he worked his fore-finger round and round, he could not, for the life of him, lay hold of the desired red cotton receptacle.
At length, with the united aid of Mrs. Sandboys and the collector, the fob was emptied of its contents, and then, to Cursty's great terror, it was discovered that the strange gentleman, and assumed member of the Detective Police Force, had practised upon the unsophisticated native of Buttermere the very trick against which he was pretending to put him on his guard. The purse was to all outward appearances the same—the interior, however, consisted of a congregation of whist counters and Bank of Elegance notes.
The mere possession of such articles was in itself suspicious, but coupled with the absence of all tickets on the part of the Sandboys family, the circumstance appeared to assume so dishonest a character, that the collector made no more ado but called a policeman and gave the whole family into custody; saying, they had neither tickets nor money in their possession, and that he found on the old one a whole purseful of sham notes and sovereigns; and that he had not the least doubt it was a deep laid scheme on his part to defraud the Company.
Mr. Sandboys raved, and Mrs Sandboys wept; Miss Sandboys intreated, while wicked Master Jobby could hardly contain himself for laughter.
The united battery of the family, however, proved of no avail, and the whole six of them, including Postlethwaite and Ann Lightfoot, were dragged off to the Town Hall, there to give some account of themselves, and urge every reason in their power why they should not, one and all, be committed as rogues and vagabonds, for a month, with hard labour, to the New Bailey.
