According to the newspapers, this young man's diary showed that he had been in the State seventy-four days and out of the seventy-four days he had worked sixty-four; but--convincing proof of his outlawry--they found on him a match-safe that a man declared had been stolen from him. As I looked on that dead boy's face I seemed to read, above all else, kindness. Had he been kind to someone; in return, had this match-safe been given to him? Hundreds of times have I seen these tokens of appreciation given: match-safes, knives, and even clothes from one out-of-work man to another--even an old brass watch that the pawnshop man considered of no value. The match-safe may have been given to this young fellow by a hardened criminal with whom circumstances had forced him to associate. "He ran from the officer." If you, my reader, had ever been forced, as a lodger or a suspect, to spend a night in a western city jail, you would take the chances of getting away by running rather than face that ordeal again. I was so deeply impressed by the injustice of this legal murder that, under a _nom de plume_, I wrote a letter of defense for the boy to his mother, a copy of which I sent to the press. It reached the governing powers of the city, but not the public. Almost immediately the officer was arrested, tried,--and acquitted. After my investigations in Denver had revealed such startling conditions of those who must toil and suffer, my first impulse was to fly to the Church. I thought I had reason to believe the Church stood for compassion, mercy, and pity. I approached, therefore, several of our leading clergymen. My first appeal was to the pastor of the Christian Church, and his reply was: "My friend, if you succeed in getting a free Municipal Emergency Home for Denver, you will build a monument for yourself." To this I answered: "I have no desire to build a monument; I want our city to build a shelter for those who may be temporarily destitute among us." Another, a Baptist, asked if it were Christian. I turned from this reverend gentleman with the belief that in his study of the Scriptures he had omitted the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, in which, I believe, the substitution of the word love for charity is conceded correct by the highest authority. To another, a Methodist, I said, "Won't you speak a word to your people that an interest may be aroused to relieve the hardships of those who toil, who happen to be without money, and have no place to rest?" With a forced expression, he replied, "I don't believe in the homeless and out-of-work. I have found them undeserving and dishonest." I could only ask what our Savior meant by "the least of these," and reminded him that the last words Christ spoke before His crucifixion were to a thief.