"Jasonville, Indiana."
It did not occur to me then that, guilty or innocent, it made no difference after I had given my real name and home. Thanks to the enterprise of metropolitan journalism, the folks in Jasonville, Indiana, would be reading at their breakfast to-morrow morning all about how Van Harrington had been taken up as a thief.
"Here!" the fat sergeant called out to one of the officers, after I had handed over to his care the few odds and ends that I still had about me; "show the gent from Indiany to number twelve."
CHAPTER II
THE HARRISON STREET POLICE COURT
A night in jail—A rapid-fire judge—The young lady is not so positive—The psychology of justice—What's the matter with Jasonville?—I tell my story to his Honor
Feeling that I had come to the end of things in Chicago mighty quick.