Perhaps they mistook their man. Certainly the authorities only considered me as a thief and a vagabond from the very start, and were determined to show me that a fakir had no rights which they were bound to respect. I was arrested in the very harshest manner, and though a couple of citizens temporarily signed as my security, it was not long before I found myself in jail, where on entering I was stripped of my diamonds and all the loose money I had in my pockets, which last was quite a little sum. They appeared to want to make sure of the fifty dollars fine and costs, and if possible to prevent my having any money with which to fight the city in the courts and to make my stay in that jail as uncomfortable as possible. My treatment there was simply vile, and when I took a severe cold in an infernally bad cell, and through lack of attention the cold drifted into pneumonia, I began to believe there was a conspiracy to murder me. I think I would have died had it not been for some good ladies, who at that very moment were being sneered at for attempting to inaugurate practical Christianity by visiting those who were sick and in prison. They managed to see that I was nursed through to semi-convalescence, and made an effort to have my fine remitted and a discharge granted. The county attorney appeared against them, however, and as they were represented by a young man of more goodness than knowledge of law or eloquence their prayer was denied. Feeling sure, then, that the city would remain obdurate, and that to remain longer in prison would mean death, I paid fine and costs under protest and crawled out to the free sunlight once more, “busted” in health and pocket, and only too glad to get out. In the end, as I have told, I procured a decision of the United States court in my favor, and then my counsel came back on the city for damages, eventually settling with the authorities for a nice little sum. Long before that, however, I had largely recovered my health and spirits and was once more on the high road to prosperity. When I came out of prison I was in no condition, financially, to long remain idle, for I had no idea of asking or receiving assistance from the folks at home. Nor was I in condition physically to do the exhaustive hustling I had been following for some years. I had to take up with something easy, and as I had no capital to speak of there was no time to pick and choose. I took up with the first thing which offered employment, and considered myself lucky that as a stranger in a strange place I was able to secure a position as solicitor for an insurance scheme, which was certainly as big a fake as any I had ever met with. The “company” had been organized long enough to inspire some confidence and was doing a thriving business on the following scheme, which was just a variation of what has been called the “graveyard” plan.