"Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate. "Mr. Jinks."
"Sir," said Mr. Jinks.
"This lady, Mr. Jinks, has come here, to give information of an intended duel in this town."
Mr. Jinks not knowing exactly what to do, smiled a dependent's smile.
"What are you laughing at, Mr. Jinks?" said the magistrate. Mr. Jinks looked serious, instantly. utally "Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, "you're a fool."
Mr. Jinks looked humbly at the great man, and bit the top of his pen.
"You may see something very comical in this information, sir; but I can tell you this, Mr. Jinks; that you have very little to laugh at," said the magistrate.
The hungry-looking Jinks sighed, as if he were quite aware of the fact of his having very little indeed, to be merry about; and, being ordered to take the lady's information, shambled to a seat, and proceeded to write it down.
"This man, Pickwick, is the principal, I understand," said the magistrate, when the statement was finished.
"He is," said the middle-aged lady.
"And the other rioter—what's his name, Mr. Jinks?"
Tupman, sir."
"Tupman is the second?"
"Yes."
"The other principal you say, has absconded, ma'am?"
"Yes," replied Miss Witherfield, with a short cough.
"Very well," said the magistrate. "These are two cut-throats from London, who have come down here to destroy his Majesty's population: thinking that at this distance from the capital, the arm of the law is weak and paralysed. They shall be made an example of. Draw up the warrants, Mr. Jinks. Muzzle!"
"Yes, your worship."
"Is Grummer down stairs?"
