o the judge to decide between
you and the officers." He took up his pen. "What's your name?"

Susan, weak and trembling, was clutching the iron rail before
the desk--the rail worn smooth by the nervous hands of ten
thousand of the social system's sick or crippled victims.

"Come--what's your name?" jeered Black Mustache.

Susan did not answer.

"Put her down Queenie Brown," cried he, triumphantly.

The sergeant wrote. Then he said: "Age?"

No answer from Susan. Black Mustache answered for her:
"About twenty-two now."

"She don't look it," said the sergeant, almost at ease once
more. "But brunettes stands the racket better'n blondes.
Native parents?"

No answer.

"Native. You don't look Irish or Dutch or Dago--though you
might have a dash of the Spinnitch or the Frog-eaters. Ever
arrested before?"

No answer from the girl, standing rigid at the bar. Black
Mustache said:

"At least oncet, to my knowledge. I run her in myself."

"Oh, she's got a record?" exclaimed the sergeant, now wholly
at ease. "Why the hell didn't you say so?"

"I thought you remembered. You took her pedigree."

"I do recollect now," said the sergeant. "Take my advice,
Queenie, and drop that bluff about the officers lying.
Swallow your medicine--plead guilty--and you'll get off with a
fine. If you lie about the police, the judge'll soak it to
you. It happens to be a good judge--a friend of Freddie's."
Then to the policemen: "Take her along to court, boys, and
get back here as soon as you can."

"I want her locked up," objected Black Mustache. "I want F. P.
to see her. I've got to hunt for him."

"Can't do it," said the sergeant. "If she makes a yell about
police oppression, our holding on to her would look bad. No,
put her through."

Susan now straightened herself and spoke. "I shan't make any
complaint," said she. "Anything rather than court. I can't
stand that. Keep me here."

"Not on your life!" cried the sergeant. "That's a trick.
She'd have a good case against us."

"F. P.'ll raise the devil if----" began Black Mustache.

"Then hunt him up right away. To court she's got to go. I
don't want to get broke."

The two men fell afoul each other with curse and abuse. They
were in no way embarrassed by the presence of Susan. Her
"record" made her of no account either as a woman or as a
witness. Soon each was so well pleased with the verbal wounds
he had dealt the other that their anger evaporat