"A young man, dressed as a groom, and locked up overnight," I said cautiously. "I wish to pay his fine."
"James Osborne?"
"Yes, that's the name; James Osborne,"—reaching down into my pocket.
"Fine's just been paid. We were about to release him. Here, officer, show this gentleman to James Osborne's cell, and tell him to pack up and get out."
So his fine was paid! Found the money in his clothes, doubtless. On the way to the cells I wondered what the deuce the rascal had been doing to get locked up overnight. I was vastly angry, but at the sight of him all my anger melted into a prolonged shout of laughter.
"That's right; laugh, you old pirate! I wish you had been in my boots a few hours ago. Lord!"
I laughed again.
"Have you got that thirty-five?" he asked.
"Why, your fine has been paid," I replied, rather surprised.
"And didn't you pay it?"