“I know it. Why, the missuses of these places know that so well that a hackman who always takes such fares to her place is welcome to an occasional bottle of beer, and any driving that she has to do is given exclusively to him.” “Well, sir, I am sorry to have to say it, but it’s a mighty poor business for a respectable man to have to engage in.” “Oh, indeed, I know it, but still I discovered something worse even than that the other night. A young fellow hired me not very long ago. He said: ‘I want to look for a certain person on King street, so I’d like you to drive very slowly along the south side close to the sidewalk.’ I said all right, and I did as I was told. Every once in a while he would say ‘A little slower, cabby,’ and I saw he was peering out of the window. By gob, says I, he is some American fly-cop after someone. But I didn’t think that long. I heard him say something, and thinking he was speaking to me I leaned over and found he was talking to a young girl on the sidewalk. I heard her say: ‘get out, you sneak.’ I was on to him then. He just did it once more, when I jumps off the hack and told the girl to stop for a second, and I would see that the man who insulted her was punished. I hauled him out of the carriage and told him to pay me $3. He made a grand kick. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘there will be a policeman by here in a minute.’ That settled it. He paid me and escaped.” “That was a case where virtue was its own reward.” “Yes sir; three dollars for ten minutes’ work. I was telling some of the boys on the stand about my adventure, and some of them were saying that there was a gentleman in the town here who used his private carriage for making mashes on young girls along the street after dark. A handsome carriage and a pair of horses is more than some girls can resist.” “What was the most exciting thing that ever happened you as a hackman?”