"Oh, he's all right; don't worry. I'll take a tour around the city. I'll find him. He may be at one of the clubs." Fortunately for Mr. James Osborne I returned home first, and there found his note awaiting me. I was at the court by noon, armed with thirty-five and a suit of clothes of my own. I found the clerk. "A young man, dressed as a groom, and locked up overnight," I said cautiously. "I wish to pay his fine." "James Osborne?" "Yes, that's the name; James Osborne,"--reaching down into my pocket. "Fine's just been paid. We were about to release him. Here, officer, show this gentleman to James Osborne's cell, and tell him to pack up and get out." So his fine was paid! Found the money in his clothes, doubtless. On the way to the cells I wondered what the deuce the rascal had been doing to get locked up overnight. I was vastly angry, but at the sight of him all my anger melted into a prolonged shout of laughter. "That's right; laugh, you old pirate! I wish you had been in my boots a few hours ago. Lord!" I laughed again. "Have you got that thirty-five?" he asked. "Why, your fine has been paid," I replied, rather surprised. "And didn't you pay it?" "Not I! The clerk told me that it had just been paid." Warburton's jaw sank limply. "Just been paid?--Who the deuce could have paid it, or known?" "First, tell me what you've been up to." He told me snatches of the exploit as he changed his clothes, and it was a question which of us laughed the more. But he didn't say a word about the stolen kiss, for which I think none the less of him. "Who were the women?" I asked. He looked at me for a space, as if deciding. Finally he made a negative sign. "Don't know who they were, eh?"--incredulously. He shrugged, laughed, and drew on his shoes. "I always knew that I was the jackass of the family, Chuck, but I never expected to do it so well. Let's get out of this hole. I wonder who can have paid that fine?... No, that would not be possible!" "What would not be?" "Nothing, nothing,"--laughing. But I could see that his spirits had gone up several degrees. "The whole thing is likely to be in the evening papers," I said. He needed a little worrying. And I knew his horror of publicity. "The newspapers? In the newspapers? Oh, I say, Chuck, can't you use your influence to suppress the thing? Think of the girls." "I'll do the best I can. And there's only one thing for you to do, and that is to cut out of town till your beard has grown. It would serve you right, however, if the reporters got the true facts." "I'm for getting out of town, Chuck; and on the next train but one." Here our conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a policeman. "A note for _Mister_ Osborne,"--ironically. He tossed the letter to Warburton and withdrew.