"Who shall I say?" inquired the bartender.
"Dutch."
"Oh, yes! All right. He'll be down about one o'clock."
"All right. Come on, Dad," said Archie, and he went out, towing his battered hulk of humanity behind him. At the corner he saw Cunningham with another man, whom he recognized as Quinn. When they met, as was inevitable, Quinn smiled and said:
"Hello, Archie! Back again?"
"Yes," said Archie. He would have kept on, but Quinn laid a hand on his arm.
"Hold on a minute," he said.
"What's the rap?" asked Archie.
"Well, you'd better come down to the front office a minute."
Cunningham had seized the old man, and the two were taken to the Central Police Station. They were charged with being "suspicious persons," and spent the night in prison. The next morning, when they were arraigned before Bostwick, the old man surprised every one by pleading guilty, and Bostwick sentenced him to the workhouse for thirty days. But Archie demanded a jury and asked that word be sent to his attorney.