"I'm not going to get flip."

"Don't yer know that it's agin the law to play on a moosical
instrument after eleven P. M.?"

"No, sir, I didn't know it. Are you going to have me executed for
it? Because if you are, I hope that you'll let me consult a
spiritual adviser, first."

"You're too fresh, young feller. I might have let yer off--"

"With a reppermand," put in Gregory.

"Mose, you shut your head!" said the constable.

Then he turned again to the prisoner.

"I mighta let yer off, but now I'm goin' to keep yer right here in
the lockup, an' consider the case tomorrer mornin'. Take him
below, Justin." Justin was the fat man, with the fan-like ears. He
stepped forward.

"Number six?" he asked the constable.

"Yup. Put him in number six."

Justin took the prisoner by the arm, took the banjo in his other
hand, and together they started down stairs. They passed in front
of us to reach the stairs, and as they did so, the young man
turned to Mr. Daddles with a smile: