The Autobiography of a Super-TrampDavies, W. H. (William Henry)
General
The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp
Davies, W. H. (William Henry)
Davies, W. H. (William Henry), 1871-1940; Poets, English -- 20th century -- Biography; Tramps -- Biography
strangers to the jail on the present occasion, so that you had better
make them out an order for the hotel." This order was then given to
us, and we immediately left the jail; and it was then, curious to know
the reason for this action, that we soon made ourselves acquainted
with the true facts of the case. When we arrived at the hotel, we were
informed that every bed had been taken since morning, and that, as it
was, a number of men would be compelled to sit all night dozing in
their chairs, and it was with this information that we returned to the
jail. For the second time we were admitted, and were advised to walk
to the next town. This, Three Fingered Jack absolutely refused to do,
saying that his feet were too blistered and sore to carry him another
hundred yards. All these detectives then got together, and, after a
rather lengthy consultation, one of them came forward and, after
plying us with a number of questions, proceeded to examine our
clothes, and that so thoroughly that I feared for the result. At the
beginning of the search, I gave him my razor, a small penknife, my
pocket-handkerchief and a comb, but he was not satisfied until his
hands were down in my stockings, and bringing up first my pipe, then
my tobacco, and lastly the matches. What worried me most was the belt
next to my body, which contained my money. I had not much fear of
Three Fingered Jack, when confronting each other openly, though he was
a tall active man, but had he known of these dollars, I had not dared
in his presence to have closed my eyes, believing that he would have
battered out my brains with a stone, wooden stake or iron bar, so that
he might possess himself of this amount. This detective certainly
discovered the belt, and felt it carefully, but the money being in
paper, and no coin or hard substance being therein, he apparently was
none the wiser for its contents. At last this severe examination was
at an end, and we were both led through an iron corridor and placed in
a cell, the door of which was carefully locked. I don't believe we
slept one moment during that night but what we were overlooked by a
pair, or several pairs of shrewd eyes. They could not believe but
that we were other to what we pretended, and had come there with
designs to thwart the ends of justice. Next morning our things were
returned to us, and we were turned adrift at a cold hour that was far
earlier than on ordinary occasions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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