Three long months had passed, during which Jim had lain in the Tombs. For a day or two the newspapers had given him considerable notoriety. A few sentimental women had sent him flowers of greater or less fragrance, with more or less grammatical expressions of admiration; then the dull drag of prison-time had begun, broken only by the daily visit of Paddy, and the more infrequent consultations with old Crookshanks. The Grand Jury had promptly found an indictment, but when the District Attorney placed the case upon the calendar in order to allow our hero to plead guilty, Mr. Crookshanks, Jim's counsel, announced that his client had no intention of so doing, and demanded an immediate trial. Dockbridge, however, now found himself in a situation of singular embarrassment, which made action upon his part for the present impossible. He was at his wits' end, for the law expressly required that no prisoner should be confined longer than two months without trial. And each week he was obliged to face the redoubtable Mr. Crookshanks, who with much bluster demanded that the case should be disposed of. Thirteen weeks went by and still Jim lived on prison fare. Soon a reporter--an acquaintance of Paddy's--commented upon the fact to his city editor. The policy of the paper happening to be against the administration, an item appeared among the "Criminal Notes" calling attention to the period of time during which Jim had been incarcerated. Other papers copied, and scathing editorials followed. In twenty-four hours Jim's detention beyond the time regulated by statute for the trial of a prisoner without bail had become an issue. The great American public, through its representative, the press, clamored to know why the wheels of justice had clogged, and the campaign committee of the reform party called in a body upon the District Attorney, warning him that an election was approaching and inquiring the cause of the "illegal proceeding which had been brought to their attention." The editor of the _Midnight American_, with his usual impetuosity, threatened a _habeas corpus_. Then the District Attorney sent for the Assistant, and the two had a hurried consultation. Finally the chief shook his head, saying: "There's no way out of it. You'll have to go to trial at once. Perhaps you can secure a plea. We can't afford any more delay. Put it on for to-morrow."