"Well, constable, what's the charge?" asked the inspector on duty,
turning on his stool and surveying me critically.
"Found him getting through the window of a house in Angel Court, Drury
Lane, sir. The place is unoccupied, and we arrested him in the act of
coming out," replied the man nearest me.
"Stolen anything?"
"No, sir; we think not: we haven't searched the premises yet."
"Put him in the dock."
"This way," commanded the constable, and I followed him into a bare,
unfurnished room, where I entered the prisoners' dock, and leaned upon
the steel rail, silent in perplexity.
In a few moments the inspector came in and seated himself at the desk,
saying,--
"Now then, look alive; charge him, and get on your beat again."
"Stand up straight, I want to take your measure," the constable said,
and as I obeyed, he exclaimed, "Five-foot-nine."
"What's your name?" asked the officer, looking towards me.