prisoners from the nearest eviction. Everywhere you meet them; young
policemen, with fresh, rosy complexions; middle-aged policemen, with stern
faces, bearing strong evidence of Irish pugilistic talent; old policemen,
with deeply scarred and weather-beaten countenances, looking forward to
speedy retirement and a moderate pension; they are in the city, in the
village, on the high road, in the by-way, and on the mountain paths. At
every railroad station they are to be seen in pairs, observing those who
arrive and depart, and noting all that may seem suspicious in the
appearance and actions of travellers.

As long as a stranger remains on the common, well-frequented tourist
routes he escapes with a sharp glance of inspection, but let him leave the
courses usually followed by travellers, or go into parts of the country
not often visited by strangers, and he at once becomes an object of
intense suspicion. You are driving along a retired country road; at the
turn of the hill a policeman heaves in sight. He speaks pleasantly, and if
nothing arouses his suspicion, he will pass on and you see him no more;
but if the slightest distrust of you or your business finds lodgment in
his mind, he marks you as a possible victim. He temporarily vanishes; look
round as you proceed on your journey, and you may, by chance, catch a
glimpse of him a mile or two away, peeping over a wall after you, but in
the next village, where you stop for the night, he reappears, and the
local policemen, after his coming, will be sure to observe you with some
degree of attention. Leave your baggage in the public room of the inn and
step out on the street. In comes the policeman, ascertains your name,
takes a mental inventory of your effects, makes a note of the railway and
hotel labels on your trunks, and goes away to report. A sharp detective is
the policeman even in the country districts. He knows articles of American
manufacture at a glance, and needs only to see your satchel to tell
whether it came from America or was made in England. Talk with him, and he
will chat cordially about the weather, the crops, the state of the
markets, but all the time he is trying to make out who you are and what is
your business. His eyes ramble from your hat to your shoes, and by the
time the conversation is ended, he has prepared for the "sargeant" a
report of your personal appearance and apparel. "Hat, English; coat,
London-made; trousers, doubtful; shoes, American; party