When we reached that foul-smelling pen we were kept waiting by a large "order" that had just been rounded up from a gambling-house in the neighborhood. There were about twenty men and women in this flock. They were filing, one by one, before the desk-sergeant. I had never heard such a family gathering of names. They were all Smiths, Browns, and Joneses, and they all lived a good way from town, out in the fifty-hundreds, where there are many vacant lots. At the end of the file there was a little unshaven Jew, who seemed very mad about it all. He was the only one who had any money; he gave up a fat roll of bills that took the officer some time to count.
"I know who did this!" the Jew sputtered at the man behind the desk. "And I can make it hot for some of youse, all right."
"That's good," the sergeant replied pleasantly. "Another time you'll have the sense to know when you are well off."
I thought this was fatherly advice addressed to the Jew for his moral health. I congratulated myself that I had fallen into clean hands. So when my turn came, I said to the desk-sergeant confidentially:—
"I am quite innocent!"
"Is that so, m'son?" he remarked pleasantly.
"They haven't any right to arrest me. I was—"
"Of course, of course! Keep all that for his Honor to-morrow morning. What's your name, m'son?"
"E.V. Harrington," I replied quite innocently.
"And where do you hail from?"