t you."

He walked slowly away, hardly knowing what to do. Soon a feeling of
indignation took possession of him as he considered the peril to which
Quigg had exposed him.

"He's used to towns and he must know it all. However, I'll ask this
man in blue. I reckon he must be one of them police that darky spoke
about."

The big officer halted as Ralph began to question him concerning the
rights of bill stickers generally and his own in particular.

"Have ye any license?" demanded the policeman gruffly. "How many bills
have you put up?"

"I don't know what you mean by a license," said Ralph, whose only idea
regarding licenses was that they were something "to get married with."

"Ye don't! Who's your boss?"

Ralph explained as best he could Mr. Quigg's occupation and
whereabouts, and also intimated that he had posted probably half a
dozen bills.

"Come with me, then," said the officer. "We'll look into this."

He took Ralph by the arm and marched him back to the corner of Third
and Main Streets, followed by an increasing retinue of street Arabs,
both white and black.

When Mr. Quigg saw the officer he shook his fist at Ralph.

"Couldn't you keep yourself out of trouble?" he demanded.

"Why didn't you tell me that the walls were not free?" retorted Ralph.
"I was told I had no right to post bills anywhere, and this man says I
ought to have a license."

The artist assumed an air of injured innocence.

"Didn't I tell you to go straight to the city hall and procure my
license?"

"No; you didn't," said the boy, angered at this barefaced attempt to
place him in a false position.

"You told me to go out and paste up these bills, and you didn't say a
word about license or anything else."

"That's what I get for picking up a lad I know nothing about," remarked
Quigg, turning to the officer, with a shrug and uplifted eyebrows. "He
crept into my car night before last when I was asleep, and being sorry
for him I gave him some work. And now he gets me into this scrape."

"That's betwixt you and him," replied the officer indifferently. "I'm
here to look out for the city. If you are going to take pictures, get
out your license at wanst. And you'd better be after seeing Bud
McShane the regular bill sticker, about the rint of what space ye want,
or he'll be in your hair, the nixt."

With this the policeman walked leisurely away, swinging his club.

Quigg surveyed Ralph with disgust.

"Put down that bucket