That he is guilty of theft is not yet proved, as he has not had his trial. But his aunt and friends are here in deep affliction, in whose name I most devoutly pray that your honor will release the boy on bail, with a solemn pledge from his aunt and friends that he will immediately be sent to sea.” A few winks, and blinks, and intelligent smiles, graced the eyes, and lips, and cheeks, and temples of several persons present, while the Recorder was considering the merits of the case, with his perturbed and thoughtful visage buried within his hands, which he anon removed, and desired the friend of the boy to come forward, who was prepared to be his bail, and presto! the long-haired, and smiling, and smooth-faced, and fragrant, and well dressed one-arm man, appeared in front of the Recorder, and with a great display of New York or London assurance, he signed the document that restored to liberty one of the shrewdest little rogues of the age. The boy’s aunt thanked Mr. Russell and the Recorder, and the one-arm man and myself went through the same formality, (I apologising to Russell for my harsh words at the Tombs,) and we separated, and the boy’s aunt went home in an omnibus, and I went to the Tombs, to witness the discharge of the culprit captive boy. He was released from his cell, and both Turnkey and Russell warned me to beware of the Judge, and we descended the prison steps, and I shall never forget the shock we received as we were passing through the prison yard, at meeting the Sessions Judge, who had just got information of Russell’s operations, and would doubtless have detained the boy until he got his share of the thirty dollars from Russell. But the boy adroitly, and like lightning, turned his head, and the Judge passed on without recognising or suspecting that the boy was already on his way to liberty. We paused a moment at the prison gate and desk, where the boy’s name was carefully examined on the books, and the boy severely scrutinised, and the clerks imparted their sly and extremely expressive leers, and the last prison gate was opened, and the boy was free, and went to his aunt’s boarding house, and rushed into her arms, who swooned, and fell like a corpse to the floor, and was with difficulty restored to consciousness. Like the pure and noble Socrates, I always conceived it a monstrous crime to illegally effect the liberation of captives, and I repeat, that in all this violation of law, and stupendous villainy, I knew that I was enacting as vile a part as Russell and Tallmadge, and the One-Arm Straw Bail Scamp, but it has always been a pleasing solace to know that sympathy, and not money, led me to embark in a plot to effect the liberation of a notorious little convict. Lawyer Russell and Recorder Tallmadge subsequently became (and are now) the City Judge and Superintendent of Police of the great commercial metropolis of the Western World, and the one-arm man I recently saw in Broadway, and on the steps of the Tombs, as glossy as