JIMMY IS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY
Jimmy stared at the porter in great astonishment. His eyes and his mouth
were opened very widely, and he felt extremely frightened. He rose from
the seat and stepped out on to the dark platform.
'I want to go to Chesterham,' he said.
'Well, you can't go to Chesterham to-night,' was the answer. 'Where's
your ticket?'
Jimmy felt in his pocket for his purse, and opening it took out his
ticket.
'You'd better come to speak to the station-master,' said the porter; and
Jimmy, feeling more frightened than ever, followed him to a small room,
where a tall red-bearded man sat writing at a table which seemed to be
covered all over with papers. When Jimmy entered with the porter the
station-master rose and stood with his back to the fire, whilst the
porter began to explain.
'You can't get to Chesterham without going back to Meresleigh,' said the
station-master presently. 'Chesterham is on a different line, and there
is no train to-night.'
'Then what am I to do?' asked Jimmy, turning very pale.
'That's just what I should like to know!' was the answer. 'But you can't
get back to Meresleigh until to-morrow morning, that's certain.'
'But where shall I sleep?' cried Jimmy.
'How was it you got out of the train at Meresleigh?' asked the
station-master.
'You see,' faltered Jimmy nervously, 'there was an accident to the
engine and we all got out.'
'Then why didn't you get in again?'
'I did,' said Jimmy.
'You didn't get into the right train,' answered the station-master, 'or
you wouldn't be here. Tell me just what you did, now.'
'Why,' Jimmy explained, 'I went into the waiting-room to eat my
sandwiches and then I fell asleep.'
'How long were you asleep?'
'I don't know. It didn't seem very long. When I woke I went on to the
platform and saw a train waiting just in the same place, and I thought
it was the same train.'
'Well, it wasn't,' said the station-master. 'Whilst you were asleep the
Chesterham train must have started, and the train you got into was the
Barstead train, which is more than an hour later. A nice mistake you've
made.'
At this Jimmy put his sleeve to his face and began to cry. He really
couldn't help it, he felt very tired, very cold, very miserable, and
very frightened. He could not imagine what would happen to him, where he
should spend the night, or how he should ever reach Chesterham. He
thought of his father and mother going to meet the train and finding no
Jimmy there, and he felt far more miserable than he had ever felt in his
life before.
The station-master began to ask him questions, and amongst others where
his friends in Chesterham lived. Jimmy did not know the exact address,
but he told the station-master his aunt's name, and he said that would
most likely be enough for a telegram.
'I shall send a telegram at once to say you're all safe here,' he said;
'and then to-morrow morning we must send you on.'
'But how about to-night?' cried Jimmy. 'Where am I to sleep?'
'I must think about that,' was the answer; and then there was a good
deal of noise as if another train had arrived, and the station-master
left his room in a great hurry. He was a very busy man and had very
little time to look after boys who went to sleep in waiting-rooms and
missed their trains. At the same time he did not intend Jimmy to be left
without a roof over his head. So he saw the train start again, and then
he sent for Coote.
Coote was tall and extremely fat, with an extraordinarily large red
face, and small eyes. He was dressed as a policeman, but he did not
really belong to the police. He was employed by the railway company to
look after persons who did not behave themselves properly, and certainly
his appearance was enough to frighten them. But the station-master knew
him to be a respectable man, with a wife and children of his own, and a
clean cottage about half a mile from the station. So he thought that
Coote would be the very man to take charge of Jimmy until the next
morning. He explained what had happened, and Coote said he would take
the boy home with him.
'I'll see he's well looked after,' he said, 'and I'll bring him in time
to catch the 7.30 train to Meresleigh in the morning.'
'You'll find him in my office,' answered the station-master, and to the
office Coote went accordingly.
Now, if he had acted sensibly in the matter he would have spared Jimmy a
good deal of unpleasantness, and Jimmy's father and mother much anxiety.
But Coote was fond of what he called a 'joke,' and instead of telling
the boy that he was going to take him home and give him a bed and some
supper, he opened the office-door, put his great red face into the room,
and stared hard at Jimmy. Jimmy was already so much upset that very
little was required to frighten him still more. When he saw the face,
with a policeman's helmet above it, he drew back farther against the
wall.
'None o' your nonsense now, you just come along with me!' cried Coote,
speaking in a very deep voice, and looking very fierce.
'I--I don't want to come,' answered Jimmy.
'Never mind what you want,' said Coote, 'you just come along with me.'
'Where--where to?' asked Jimmy.
'Ah, you'll see where to,' was the answer. 'Come along now. No
nonsense.'
Very unwillingly Jimmy accompanied Coote along the platform and out into
the street. It was quite dark and very cold, as the boy trotted along by
the policeman's side, looking up timidly into his red face.
'Nice sort of boy you are and no mistake,' said Coote, 'travelling over
the company's line without a ticket. Do you know what's done to them as
travels without a ticket?'
'What?' faltered Jimmy.
'Ah, you wait a few minutes, and you'll see fast enough,' said Coote.
What with his policeman's uniform, his red cheeks, his great size, Jimmy
felt more and more afraid, and he really believed that he was going to
be locked up because he had travelled in the wrong train. Instead of
that the man was thinking what he should do to make the boy more
comfortable. He naturally supposed that Jimmy's friends would reward
him, and as it seemed likely that Mrs. Coote might not have anything
especially tempting for supper he determined to buy something on the way
home. After walking along several quiet streets they came to one which
was much busier. There were brilliant lights in the shop windows, and in
front of one of the brightest Coote stopped.