It had come about during a terrific race riot of a few years before, and the incident will ever live in the history of Attalia. It was then this creature became crippled. He was, at the time, one of the strongest and most capable officers on the force. But, upon being sent to make an arrest, he happened onto a "bad" Negro, run amuck. He was, to say the least, however, far more fortunate than a dozen others, for they had been sent to their happy hunting ground before the riot was quelled. Since then, he had acted as a sort of bailiff. Peeping up at Wyeth he said: "You have up collateral, do you not?" "Pay me out, pay me out!" cried Demon, at this point. Wyeth nodded. "Then you step aside, and follow the officer downstairs to the clerk's office," he instructed. "Pay me out, pay me out!" from Demon again. Wyeth frowned and pinched him good. "I wish to confer in regard to this fellow," said he to hunchy, as they were being waited for. In the detention room, Demon secured a loan of fifty cents from another miscreant, and a moment later, they stood before the clerk. When the fines had been paid, the officer said: "Now Demon, you can go, but I am ordered to hold Wyeth as a suspicious character." "Well I'll be damned!" was all Wyeth said. * * * * * "Take me at once before him," he cried, when they were again in the court room, at the same time flashing his check book which he had placed in his pocket for precautionary measures. Demon had followed them gratefully back up the stairs, and now stood about muttering in a low tone: "Ain' that Hell, _ain' that Hell_!" Wyeth motioned him aside, resolutely. Once more he stood before his Honor. Upon recognizing him, the recorder looked at the officer with a question. His face had cleared of the frown it wore some time before, and Wyeth concluded his stomach was better. The officer preferred the charge, whereupon he looked at Wyeth keenly. Wyeth made a motion. It was granted. "I dislike, very much, your Honor, to be kept in this court room so unceremoniously. I am no criminal, and my time is worth something. Now if I may be permitted to put up more money, I have just paid a fine for being out late for myself, as well as for another, and go my way until this thing is done with, I'll appreciate it." "Very well. Twenty-five dollars." Wyeth paid it, and never returned to take it down. When he got back to his room after it was all over, thirty-six dollars to the bad, he opened the book of resolutions and recorded therein: "Resolved! That to give heed to the 'Call of the Wild' in Attalia, is a very expensive diversion, albeit a lesson; therefore, henceforth, twelve o'clock will find me in the land of nod." CHAPTER TWELVE _A Jew_; _a Gentile_; _a Murder_--_and Some More_ "Look here, kid, they tell me they had you," jollied Spoon, when he saw Wyeth that evening at Hatfield's ice cream parlor.