, and he knew you was workin' for me.
If he'd 'a' told anybody, it would 'a' been me; you can bet your hat on
that."

"Then where did you hear the story?" I persisted.

"Why, I dunno just where I did hear it first. Everybody in town seems to
know it," he asserted; and with this unsatisfying answer I was obliged to
be contented.

The next attempt was made in a small industrial city on the opposite side
of the State. This time I went to the chief of police as soon as I
arrived, and after making the required report, I had it out with him in
plain speech.

"I am going to try to get work here in your city," I said, "and I'd like
to know beforehand how much leeway you are going to give me."

The portly thief-taker leaned back in his chair and regarded me with a
coldly appraisive eye. He was a coarse-featured man with a face that
would have fitted admirably in any rogues' gallery in the land.

"You're in bad, young fellow," he growled. "We've got plenty and more
than enough of your kind in this town, without takin' on any more."

"But I am keeping my parole," I pleaded. "I have come to you like a man
the first thing, and have made my report according to the conditions.
Somebody has got to give me a chance."

"You'll earn it, damn' good and plenty, if you stay here to get it," was
the gruff response. "What kind of a job are you lookin' for?"

It was hard to confide in such a man, even casually, but I had no choice.

"I am willing to take anything I can get, but my experience has been
mostly in office work," I told him; adding: "I suppose I might call
myself a fairly expert bookkeeper."

"Umph!" he grunted, shifting his cigar from one corner of the hard-bitted
mouth to the other. "That means that you want to try for a job where you
can work the till-tapping game again."

Not having as yet learned my lesson line by line, I was incautious enough
to say: "I have yet to work it the first time."

"Like hell you have! See here, young fellow--you needn't spring that
kind of talk on me. I know you and your kind up one side and down the
other. You say you've put three years in 'stir' and that settles it."
At this point he broke off short, righted his chair with a snap and
reached for a bill-spindle on his desk. After a glance at one of the
impaled memoranda he sat back again, chewing his cigar and staring into
vacancy. A full minute elapsed before he deigned to become once more
aware of my presence. Then he wh