no resistance, and only asked him for protection from the mob, which commenced to gather again, and were now yelling, "Kill the nigger!" "Lynch the nigger!" This mob came up close behind me with sticks and stones. One of the officers knocked on the sidewalk with his club, and there were about half a dozen more officers ran to us to keep the mob off me. The mob was kept off me, and the officer in citizen's clothes and a policeman in uniform took hold of each of my shoulders and four policemen followed behind me. The mob went along too, yelling and screaming, "Kill the nigger!" "Lynch the nigger!" We went west on 37th Street towards the 37th Street station, which is between 9th and 10th Avenues, when we turned into 37th Street. Then the two officers in charge of me and two more behind me took me to the 37th Street station house. Up to this time I had not received a blow, and was not injured in any way. They stood me before a man who sat behind a desk in the station house. There were lots of people there. Some of the men were in citizens' clothes. The man behind the desk said to the officer who had me in charge, "What is the charge against this man?" and the officer in citizen's clothes said, "Carrying a concealed weapon he bought out of a pawnshop." I said, "I did not buy any weapon there," and the man behind the desk said, "Don't dictate to us about what you did not do," and then I started to tell him about my reputation and not being a rioter, and that I was only trying to get to my work. He said, "We have got no time to look up your reputation. Lock him up." I was taken by the jailer who is in the station house, and he said, "Come on," and took hold of me. There were two doors leading from the office into the muster room, and I went to get through the left-hand door. Right beside the door in the station house was a policeman leaning against the door. As I passed him he threw out his foot and tripped me. I stumbled but did not fall. I did not see the jailer; he let go of my coat he had hold of. I looked around at the man who tripped me. As I looked around another policeman struck me on the jaw with his fist; then another struck me in the back of the head with his club, and all the policemen in the muster room jumped up and jumped on me, yelling, "Kill him!" "Kill the nigger!" I still stood up and received many punches. I begged for mercy, and did not weaken until an officer struck me in the temple with his billy, and everything was dark around me. I fell down, and I could still feel them kicking and beating me about. This time the man behind the desk, who I believe is Captain Cooney, rushed in and said, "Don't kill that man in here. The reporters are out here, and there is going to be a charge made against you, and if another man touches a prisoner in here I will take a hand in it myself;" and he says, "Lock that man up." At that time I held my hands above my head and was running around trying to find the doorway to the cells. I was