Chapter 11

           Theoffencehadbeencommittedwithinthedistrict,andindeedintheimmediateneighborhoodof,averynotoriousmetropolitanpoliceoffice.ThecrowdhadonlythesatisfactionofaccompanyingOliverthroughtwoorthreestreets,anddownaplacecalledMuttonHill,whenhewasledbeneathalowarchway,andupadirtycourt,intothisdispensaryofsummaryjustice,bythebackway.Itwasasmallpavedyardintowhichtheyturned;andheretheyencounteredastoutmanwithabunchofwhiskersonhisface,andabunchofkeysinhishand.

           ‘What’sthematternow?’saidthemancarelessly.

           ‘Ayoungfogle-hunter,’repliedthemanwhohadOliverincharge.

           ‘Areyouthepartythat’sbeenrobbed,sir?’inquiredthemanwiththekeys.

           ‘Yes,Iam,’repliedtheoldgentleman;‘butIamnotsurethatthisboyactuallytookthehandkerchief.IIwouldrathernotpressthecase.

           ‘Mustgobeforethemagistratenow,sir,’repliedtheman.‘Hisworshipwillbedisengagedinhalfaminute.Now,younggallows!’

           ThiswasaninvitationforOlivertoenterthroughadoorwhichheunlockedashespoke,andwhichledintoastonecell.Herehewassearched;andnothingbeingfounduponhim,lockedup.

           Thiscellwasinshapeandsizesomethinglikeanareacellar,onlynotsolight.Itwasmostintolablydirty;foritwasMondaymorning;andithadbeentenantedbysixdrunkenpeople,whohadbeenlockedup,elsewhere,sinceSaturdaynight.Butthisislittle.

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