“Mr. H * * * *,” interrupted the Alderman, “I cannot, and _will not_, allow any such talk in my office! For you, Chief of Police, to speak thus, is to insinuate that Mr. Smith is a suspicious character. There is nothing in his appearance to warrant such an insinuation. But let me not talk of that. Let us proceed with the case. This is Friday: I will postpone the hearing only till Monday. I think that will be dealing fairly by both.” “It will be no such thing!” vociferated the irate official. “You are not giving me a fair show! You are showing partiality toward——” “Mr. H * * * *!” interrupted the Alderman, peremptorily; “not another such word in my office! I shall——” “But I’ll be——” “Do you hear? Not another word! I shall send the case right down to court! You must go there and answer to the charge.” “Send it! and be——” Boiling over with rage, the Chief had seized his hat, bolted from the office, banged the door after him, and thus prevented me from hearing the conclusion of his invective. “The case will be tried in court,” said the Alderman, to me. “Be at the court-house on Monday, and give your evidence before the Grand Jury. By Tuesday, then, it may be tried.” “I will; thank you.” Monday came, and I gave my evidence before the Grand Jury, making the case against H * * * * as strong as I could, without swerving from “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth: s’help—” _etc._ A “bill” was “found” against him, in the brief space of sixty seconds; and early next morning the case came up before the “Criminal Court.” It was such a plain case against the poor cuss, that his counsel advised him to plead guilty; which he did. He was then severely reprimanded by the Judge, in a long speech, in which he urged upon him the importance of being careful about laying hands on an inoffensive person, without a warrant, and mildly sentenced him to pay a fine of twenty-five dollars, and the costs; making in all, the handsome little sum of seventy-three dollars and eighty-two cents: and what was still more aggravating and humiliating to the dread (?) Chief, he was immediately taken into custody, by two tipstaves, and escorted into the sheriff’s office, where he had to pay the fine and costs, “on sight.” The affair cost me nothing. In fact, I gained by it; for I was about that time commencing to write a work of fiction, (since published), and I had been for several days at a loss for some one to represent the villainous character. This let me out, nicely. I named my “villain” Robert H * * * *, gave an exact description of him, went on swimmingly with my novel, and, at the conclusion, brought him to a terrible and tragic death.[2] Footnote 2: THE WHITE ROCKS; Or, the Robbers of the Monongahela. A thrilling story of Outlaw Life in Western Pennsylvania. By A. F. Hill, author of “OUR BOYS,” etc., etc. 12mo. Cloth, price $1.75. CHAPTER XXVI. PECULIARITIES OF TRAVELERS.