's Gallery.

Clayton clamored for an opportunity to telephone the Chief of Police,
the Director of Public Safety, or some other high mogul. "If I was in
St. Joe, I'd be out of here in two minutes," he excitedly declared.

"Of course you would," assented Alfred, "but you're not in St. Joe.
You're in jail in Pittsburgh, a shake-down town, and it will cost us
fifty and costs, you see if it don't."

"Not on your life it won't. Let me get this fellow on the phone. What's
his name? I met him last night. I'll tell him something," said Clayton.

"Do you know him?" meekly inquired Alfred.

"Know him? Hell? Why, I'm well acquainted with him. I had fifty drinks
with him last night."

"Well, telephone him quick," urged Alfred.

"Hello, hello! This is Clayton, Clayton, C-l-a-y-t-o-n, Clayton. I met
you last night. (Ha-ha-ha). How do you feel? (Oh, all right). Where am I
at? No, no! Pet Clayton, Mayor of St. Joe, Imperial Potentate of
the--hello--gurgle--gurgle," and Pet hung up the phone. "Well, don't
that beat the bugs! Now this fellow knows me but he says he must see me.
He only met me last night, he isn't familiar with my voice. I told him
who I was but he said I might be all right, but he would come out and
investigate."

"It seems to me Bill Brown would come back looking for us. You're the
guest of honor."

This reminder riled Clayton up. "I'll attend to Mr. Brown's case. I put
him where he is. I'll show him something next session of the Imperial
Council."

Just then the jailer thrust a thin loaf of bread part ways between the
bars. Alfred and Pet gazed at the bread as it stuck there. In a moment
the man sat a thin can of water beside the bread. Clayton endeavored to
bribe him to go to a restaurant and bring some real refreshments.

"Phwat wud yez like to eat?"

"Oh, Old Crow or Joe Finch's 'Golden Wedding.'"

"Oh, yez'll git none of those things out here. They wudn't know how to
cook them if they had 'em. Yez'd better have some corned beef and
cabbage. No, this is Friday, yez can't get that. Salt mackerel is the
bhest I can do for yez the day."

Clayton pinched off a crust, with the remark: "I'll eat your bread but
damned if I drink your water."

Clayton swore he could buy the police, the police station, the police
department or anything else in Pittsburgh, but he wouldn't be shook
down. He had endeavored to bribe everyone he came in contact with, but
all refused to accept, even the policeman. Pet confidenti