ad been picked up by a
policeman and charged with vagrancy. The obliging judge who heard his
case gave him twenty-four hours to leave town. He went, in company
with a professional tramp, upon the brake beams of a freight train
that pulled out for Stockton that very night. But at Stockton the
train was overhauled by policemen in wait for just these unwelcome
strangers from a rival town, and the two were told to go back promptly
where they came from. They got into San Francisco more dead than
alive, and then the inevitable happened. They were haled before the
selfsame judge who had given the youth such an amazing chance to get
started right. He treated them both to thirty days in the county jail,
and the youth emerged a wiser but by no means a sadder man. He had
learned, among other things, that if one were to be jailed one might
just as well be jailed for cause. The charge of vagrancy was very
inclusive, and a man could skirt very near the edge of felony and
still manage to achieve a nominal punishment. He told all this simply,
naturally, naively--as if he were entertaining an acquaintance with a
drawing-room anecdote. When he finished, Fred inquired:

"And how about bail to-night?"

The youth shrugged. "Well, I dunno. I sent word to a girl who--"

At that moment the attendant appeared again. He had come after the
youth--evidently the girl had proved herself.

"So long," the boy said to Fred, as he went through the door. "If
you've got a dame stuck on you there's always a chance."

Fred went over and leaned against the washbasin. His companions had
been diverting. In their company he had ceased to think very
definitely about his own plight. Now he was alone. He wondered what
Helen would do... He put his hand to his cheek--it was still smarting
from the blow that had waked his primitive hatred...

He was standing in this same position before the washbasin, smoking
furiously, when the attendant came for him.

"It's past midnight," the man said. "I guess your folks ain't coming."

Fred stirred. "No, I guess not," he echoed, with resignation.

The officer took his arm. "Well, we'll have to get fixed up for the
night," he announced.

Fred threw his cigarette butt on the floor and stepped on it.

* * * * *

The next morning at eleven o'clock Fred Starratt heard his name bawled
through the corridors and he was led out to the room where prisoners
were allowed to receive their lawyers