At last, Cupples, who had been telling me some stories of court trials in San Francisco, said, “Let’s sit down and wrap up. This deck’s too wet to walk on.” “All the seats are damp,” I said. “I’ll get out my steamer chair. Steward,” he cried to the deck steward who was shoving a mop back and forth, “get me my chair. There’s a tag on it, ‘Berth 96.’” “No, no,” I cried hastily; “let’s go into the cabin. It’s raining.” “Only a drizzle. Won’t hurt you at sea, you know.” By this time the deck steward was hauling down chairs trying to find No. 96, which I felt sure would be near the bottom. I could not control my anxiety as the steward got nearer and nearer the tarpaulin. At last I cried— “Steward, never mind that chair; take the first two that come handy.” Cupples looked astonished, and, as we sat down, I said— “I have something to tell you, and I trust you will say nothing about it to any one else. There’s a man under those chairs.” The look that came into the lawyer’s face showed that he thought me demented; but, when I told him the whole story, the judicial expression came on, and he said, shaking his head— “That’s bad business.” “I know it.” “Yes, but it’s worse than you have any idea of. I presume that you don’t know what section 4738 of the Revised Statutes says?” “No; I don’t.” “Well, it is to the effect that any person or persons, who wilfully or with malice aforethought or otherwise, shall aid, abet, succor or cherish, either directly or indirectly or by implication, any person who feloniously or secretly conceals himself on any vessel, barge, brig, schooner, bark, clipper, steamship or other craft touching at or coming within the jurisdiction of these United States, the said person’s purpose being the defrauding of the revenue of, or the escaping any or all of the just legal dues exacted by such vessel, barge, etc., the person so aiding or abetting, shall in the eye of the law be considered as accomplice before, during and after the illegal act, and shall in such case be subject to the penalties accruing thereunto, to wit—a fine of not more than five thousand dollars, or imprisonment of not more than two years—or both at the option of the judge before whom the party so accused is convicted.” “Great heavens! is that really so?” “Well, it isn’t word for word, but that is the purport. Of course, if I had my books here, I—why, you’ve doubtless heard of the case of the Pacific Steamship Company _versus_ Cumberland. I was retained on behalf of the company. Now all Cumberland did was to allow the man—he was sent up for two years—to carry his valise on board, but we proved the intent. Like a fool, he boasted of it, but the steamer brought back the man, and Cumberland got off with four thousand dollars and costs. Never got out of that scrape less than ten thousand dollars. Then again, the steamship _Peruvian versus_ McNish; that is even more to the—”