And then he had a dream that filled him with terror. The police had found him. The police had found him in the wagon.
He awoke with a start. Rough hands were shaking him. Yes, it was perfectly true!
He turned over with a whimper and lifted up his head, only to drop it instantly. He had been blinded by the glare of a lantern held six inches from his eyes.
"Well, damn me," a great, roaring voice surged into his ears. "Here, Ike!"
"What's up now?" said a second voice, roaring like the first.
"What about it? Must ha' got in at Blackhampton."
The boy burrowed deeper and deeper into the sacks.
"Here, come out of it." The owner of the first voice took him by the ear and dragged him out of the wagon.
"Enry Arper, is it? Well, you are going to have something to 'arp for, you are, my lad."
"Ever had the birch rod, Mister Enry Arper?" inquired the first voice with a kind of grim pleasantness.
"No? Not had that pleasure? The police are going to cut the skin off o' you and sarve you right. They'll larn you to trespass on to the railway. Fetch the foreman, Ike."
While the boy, securely held by the ear, stood shivering, Ike went leisurely in search of the foreman shunter. It was six o'clock, and that individual, who had been on duty since that hour the previous evening, was on the point of going home. Ike found him in the messroom, where he had gone to exchange his lantern for the small wicker basket in which he brought his meals. His name was Job Lorimer, and being large and fat and florid he sauntered up to the scene of action with an air of frank acceptance of life as it is, that seems to go as a rule with his type of physique and countenance.
"Why, blow me, Iggins, what's all this year?"
"Allow me to introjuice Mr. Enry Arper o' Blackhampton.--Mr. Job Lorimer, foreman shunter, Kentish Town."
"'Owdy do, young man. Pleased to meet you." Mr. Lorimer winked solemnly at both his subordinates. "What can we do for you?"
"Twelve strokes with the birch rod," said subordinate the first.
"Eight for the first offence," said subordinate the second.
Suddenly the boy fell down senseless at the foreman shunter's feet.
"Well, blow me," said the Foreman Shunter. "Show the light, Pearson."
The second subordinate maneuvered the lantern. "On'y a kid. And I never see sich a state as he's in. No boots. No stockings. Just look at them feet. And his hands all of a mush. Gawd!" said the Foreman Shunter.