I knew I had not committed any crime this time and thought I should of course be released in the morning. Instead however of being taken directly to the station house, I was conducted to a saloon, and confronted with the "sucker". I had never seen him before, but he identified me, just the same, as the man who had picked his pocket. I asked him how long ago he had missed his valuables, and when he answered, "Three hours," I drew a long sigh of relief, for I was at the joint at that time, and thought I could prove an alibi. But though the rapper seemed to weaken, the copper was less trustful and read the riot act to him. I was so indignant I began to call the policeman down vigorously. I told him he had better try to make a reputation on me some other time, when I was really guilty, whereupon he lost his temper, and jabbed me in the chest with his club, which brought on another flow of blood from my lungs. In this plight I was taken to the station house, still confident I should soon be set at liberty, although I had only about eighty dollars for fall-money. I hardly thought I needed it, but I used it just the same, to make sure, and employed a lawyer. For a while things looked favorable to me, for I was remanded back from court every morning for eight days, on account of lack of evidence, which is almost equivalent to a turn-out in a larceny case. Even the copper began to pig it (weaken), probably thinking he might as well get a share of my "dough," since it began to look as if I should beat the case. But on the ninth day luck turned against me. The Chief of detectives "identified" me as another man, whispering a few words to the justice, and I was committed under two thousand dollars bail to stand trial in General Sessions. I was sent to the Tombs to await trial, and I knew at last that I was lost. My character alone would convict me; and my lawyer had told me that I could not prove an alibi on the oaths of the thieves and disorderly persons who had been with me in the opium joint.