CHAPTER XXIII

The Artful Dodger Gets into Trouble

Fagin the Jew was in his den, together with his pupils. But the Artful Dodger was not among them; the police had accused him of attempting to pick a pocket, and finding a silver snuff-box on him, they arrested him. Fagin was anxious about him: for the police knew what a clever fellow the Dodger was, and they were sure to bring strong evidence against him. Fagin expected he would be banished for life. One of the boys was sent to attend the trial in order to give a full account of it to Fagin.

The Dodger came into the court-room with the coat sleeves turned up as usual, his left hand in his pocket and his hat in his right hand. Taking his place in the dock he requested to know 'what he was placed in that shameful situation for'.

"Hold your tongue, will you?" said the jailer.

"I'm an Englishman, ain't I?" answered the Dodger. "Where are my rights?"

"You'll get your rights soon enough," said the jailer, "and pepper with 'em."

"We'll see what the Secretary of State for Home Affairs has got to say about that," replied Mr. Dawkins. "Now then! What is this business? I hope that the magistrates won't keep me too long while they read the paper, for I've got an appointment with a gentleman in the City, and I, I'm a man of my word, and very punctual in business matters; he'll go away if I ain't there in time, and then perhaps there will be an action for damages against those who are keeping me away."

The spectators laughed heartily at this.

"Silence there!" cried the jailer.

"What is this?" asked one of the magistrates.

"A pickpocketing case, your worship."

"Has the boy ever been here before?"

"He ought to have been, many times," replied the jailer. "I know him pretty well, your worship."

"Oh! you know me, do you?" cried the Artful, making a note of the statement. "Very good. That's a case of defamation of character, anyway."

Here there was another laugh, and another cry of "Silence".

"Now then, where are the witnesses?" said the clerk.

"Ah! that's right," added the Dodger. "Where are they? I should like to see them."

This wish was immediately fulfilled, for a policeman stepped forward who had seen the prisoner pick the pocket of a gentleman, and when he was arrested and searched a silver snuff-box, with the owner's name on the lid, was found upon his person.

"Have you anything to ask this witness, boy?" said the magistrate.

"No," replied the Dodger, "not here, for this isn't a court of justice; and besides, my lawyer is having breakfast this morning with the Vice-President of the House of Commons. But I shall have something to say elsewhere and I'll—"

"There! Take him away," interrupted the magistrate.

"Come on," said the jailer.

"Oh, I'll come on," replied the Dodger, brushing his hat with the palm of his hand. "Ah! (to the magistrate) it's no use your looking frightened: I won't show any mercy, my fine fellows. I wouldn't be you for anything! I wouldn't go free, now, if you were to fall down on your knees and ask me. Here, carry me off to prison! Take me away!"

With these words the Dodger allowed himself to be led off by the collar, threatening to make a parliamentary business of it.

Having seen him locked up by himself in a little cell, Fagin's boy hastened back to his master to give him the news that the Dodger was doing full justice to his upbringing and making for himself a glorious reputation.