Topping all other humorous experiences was that encountered by one of the most efficient of the Minneapolis District A. P. L. Captains. He had orders to arrest a deserter who bore a Polish name ending in “-ski.” After a long search he was informed that this man lived in one of the slum sections, working all day and arriving at his lodging place generally about 1:00 a. m. He could not learn where the man worked and so was compelled to locate him at his room. Going there to make inquiries one night, he was told that the man was there. Having been informed that the fellow was dangerous and fearing that he would become alarmed and flee if he was not taken into custody immediately, the captain went into his room. Asking if he were “So-and-so-ski,” the man said he was. He was told to get up and dress and come along. Although he was surly he showed no resistance and accompanied the captain outside. The captain felt, however, that this docility might be assumed, and thought he would take no chances. The place was about a mile from the jail. The captain had an automobile, but did not feel it would be safe to take the prisoner in the seat with him. He therefore compelled him to straddle the hood on the car, and on this ungainly perch, with the temperature 20° below, the unfortunate suspect was driven to the court house. Arriving there, the prisoner scratched his head and asked: “What yuh bringin’ me down here for?” “Why, because you didn’t register for the draft. You know what.” “Didn’t register for the draft? I guess I did! Here is my blue card and my classification card.” Explanation followed. This man’s name ended with the Polish “-ski” and was otherwise almost identical to the name of the culprit who was sought. When he was asked if he was “So-and-so-ski,” it sounded so much like his own name that he admitted it. He was taken back to his lodgings in the seat beside the captain and proper apologies were made. In most cases where humor existed, there was sometimes a mixture of tragedy. There was one man, a motor truck driver, who had made himself exceedingly popular with a number of women by wearing a uniform of an infantryman without having gone through the formality of enlistment. He was captured one day while paying a call on one of his admirers. Operatives burst in upon the imposter and told him he must straightway doff the uniform. “But this is the only suit of clothes I have,” he protested. One operative went to his truck and found an oil-stained suit of overalls. He was taken behind the screen and forced to get into these and give up his military raiment.