"It is also alleged that the prisoner was confined in a dungeon cell while he was in the custody of the Twenty-second street police. "After his discharge the injured man had to be helped to the elevator by two of his friends because of his injuries. The names of the officers who assaulted the prisoner were not obtainable, for the reason that the prisoner had not been booked and the officer making the arrest had not signed any complaint." Two observations will arrest the attention of the average reader. They must naturally occur to his mind. First, What sort of a Sheriff is he who will keep a man in jail, without a proper commitment? Second, What kind of a lawyer must he be who will suggest to a court the propriety of depriving a man of his liberty, without due process of law, at the mere request of such "a high official" as the Chief of Police? The return of the Sheriff in this case to the writ of _habeas corpus_ should have been treated as a contempt of court. Pool rooms are operating as of yore. The _Daily News_ of May 27 ult. contains the following, viz.: "The saloon of J. H. D. at E. and N. C. streets was converted into a pool room yesterday afternoon at the time the ticker began to record the winning horses in the races at the various tracks throughout the country. A dozen men assembled in the barroom where the ticker was located and placed bets, while a number of women sat in the back rooms and also chanced their money. "The women's wants were looked after by a young man who answered to the name of 'Dude.' After each race he carried them the slip printed from the ticker showing the winners and handed their money to those who had been lucky. During the interval between the races the schedule of the next race was discussed by all who intended to place money, and 'Dude' would come from the rear room with a handful of bills to place on some race by the women. "On the inside money was passed over the bar indiscriminately and a clerk was busy keeping track of those who placed bets. From the conversation which passed between those in the barroom one might judge that he was in a genuine poolroom, where the interference of police was not to be feared. "All the men present merely gave their initials when they risked their money, and these were carefully preserved on paper until the ticker decided whether the money was lost or won. The man who passed as 'Dude' had charge of the pools apparently, and all the money which was placed went through his hands. After taking it he would call the initials of the man placing the bet and then hand the money to the man behind the bar."