"We want you," at the same time displaying his police badge.
"What for?" inquired Smith.
"Suspicion," replied the officer.
"Gentlemen, you are mistaken; I am Judge of the Police Court of
New Orleans."
"Oh! you are? Well, we never arrest a fellow like you that he is not a Judge, lawyer, doctor, or some big bug somewhere, to hear him tell it; but you take a walk with us up to the chief's office, and explain to him who and what you are."
Smith saw it was of no use trying to explain. The train was moving off with his baggage on board, and he was left (in the hands of the two officers). They marched him up to the chief's office, and when they arrived everything seemed to be in readiness for an immediate trial; for there was Judge Wilson, the prosecuting attorney, and quite a number of witnesses.
Smith was found guilty of desertion. The judge fined him (a bottle), and ordered that he be confined within the city limits for one day. Smith paid the fine, but pleaded to be let off from the imprisonment. Judge Wilson was firm (for once in his life), so poor Smith had to serve out his time; but the Judge was kind enough to see that he did not suffer for the want of anything, and when he was set at liberty he was like some birds born and raised in a cage. They like the confinement, and when the door is open they will not fly away; but frighten the bird, and away it will go. It was so with Smith; he had already stayed too long. He got frightened and flew away to the sunny South.
The cold blasts of winter were sweeping over the North, when Judge
Wilson remembered his promise made to Judge Smith to visit him in
New Orleans, and he was soon on his way to make his promise good,
for he is a man of his word.
He telegraphed Smith that he would arrive on a certain train, expecting, of course, that he would be received with a brass band, etc.
The train on which Mose was being transported from the land of snow to the land of flowers was about ten miles from New Orleans, when it passed a northern-bound freight, and in a few moments two large men, with brass buttons on their coats, came marching into the Cincinnati sleeper. They came down the aisle, closely scanning the faces of all the male passengers. They halted at the seat occupied by Mose. They looked at him and then at a photograph they had with them. Finally one of them put his hand on Mose's shoulder, and said: