CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
HOW I FOUND MYSELF IN VERY LOW COMPANY.
My capturer was a boy, and as remarkable a specimen of a boy as it has ever been my lot to meet during the whole of my career.

His age was, say, fourteen.

He stood four feet one in his slipshod boots.
The hat which adorned his head was an old white billycock, which in its palmy days might have adorned noble brows, so fashionable were its pretensions.

Now, alas! it had one side caved in, and the other was green with wear and weather.

The coat which arrayed his manly form was evidently one not made recently or to wearer's measure, for besides showing cracks and rents in various parts, its tails were so extravagantly long for its small occupant that they literally almost touched the ground.