"I was surprised to hear you had caught the rascal so speedily. Where
is the scoundrel? What does he say?"

"That it was all a _mistake!_" answered the officer, with a very
significant smile. "There he is," pointing to Fred.

"Of course--the villain! And if I had been so unfortunate as not to
have had a watch to hand over, he would have murdered and robbed me of
what I might have of any value. The murderous rascal!--Ah! how are
you, Loring? You here!" advancing and shaking Fred's hand cordially,
and continuing, "Show me that cut-throat! Which is he?"

The expression on Fred's countenance may possibly be imagined, but I
cannot describe it. And when, in answer to the call, "Prisoner, stand
up," he arose, his friend's--the plaintiff's--surprise was stupendous
for a moment; and then breaking into a hearty chuckle, he exclaimed:

"Of course _now_ I know it was a mistake."

The dignity of the place was forgotten by all then, and never was such
a shout of laughter heard before within those walls. But Fred could
not join in it, to save him. He had too lately stood in the place of
an individual bearing quite too many opprobrious epithets, to feel
very light-hearted.

He returned home to relieve Nellie's mind, telling her it was all
settled--she need have now no more anxiety about it. But he never told
her how it was settled. One thing, however, she noticed--he was not so
fond of his revolver's companionship as he used to be. And once she