ir that fell
over one eye hung several long hay-wisps. His face looked stupid and
moon-fat. He rolled his big, brown eyes in a despairful manner that was
unconsciously comic. For he was, instinctively, as I was not, instantly
and fully aware of the seriousness of what might come upon us for our
innocent few hours' sleep.

"Come on, boys. Up with your hands till we go through your pockets."

On Bud's hip they found a whiskey flask, quarter-full. In my inside
pocket, a sheaf of poor verse--I had barely as yet come to grips with my
art--and, in an outside pocket, the Bible I had filched from the woman's
sewing machine in Tuscon.

The finding of the Bible on my person created a speechless pause.

Then--

"Good Gawd! A bum with a Bible!"

Awe and respect held the crowd for a moment.

* * * * *

The march began.

"Where are you taking us to?"

"To the calaboose."

Down a long stretch of peaceful, Sunday street we went--small boys
following in a curious horde, and Sunday worshippers with their women's
gloved hands tucked in timidly under their arms as we passed by. They
gave us prim, askance glances, as if we belonged to a different species
of the animal kingdom.

Buck negroes with their women stepped out into the street, while, as is
customary there,--the white men passed, taking us two tramps to jail. We
came to a high, newly white-washed board fence. Within it stood a
two-story building of red brick. On the fence was painted, in big black
letters the facetious warning, "Keep out if you can." A passage in
through the gate, and McAndrews first knocked at, then kicked against
the door.

The sleepy-faced, small-eyed jailer finally opened to us. The wrinkled
skin of the old man hung loosely from his neck. It wabbled as he talked.

"What the hell's the mattah with you folks?" protested McAndrews, the
night watchman, "slep' late," yawned the jailer, "it bein' Sunday
mawhnin'."

By this time the sheriff, summoned from his house, had joined us. A big
swashbuckler of a man with a hard face, hard blue eyes with quizzical
wrinkles around them. They seemed wrinkles of good humour till you
looked closer.

"--s a damn lie ... you 'en Jimmy hev bin a-gamblin' all night,"
interjected the sheriff, in angry disgust.

* * * * *

They marched us upstairs. The whole top floor, was given over to a huge
iron cage which had been built in before the putting on of