siness,
but that his duty was to take them into custody.

"But then it will be too late, don't you understand?" shouted Mr. Dwyer.
"You've got to let us go _now_, at once."

"I can't do it, Mr. Dwyer," said the captain, "and that's all there is
to it. Why, haven't I just sent the president of the Junior Republican
Club to the patrol-wagon, the man that put this coat on me, and do you
think I can let you fellows go after that? You were all put under bonds
to keep the peace not three days ago, and here you're at it--fighting
like badgers. It's worth my place to let one of you off."

What Mr. Dwyer said next was so uncomplimentary to the gallant Captain
Scott that that overwrought individual seized the sporting editor by the
shoulder, and shoved him into the hands of two of his men.

This was more than the distinguished Mr. Dwyer could brook, and he
excitedly raised his hand in resistance. But before he had time to do
anything foolish his wrist was gripped by one strong little hand, and he
was conscious that another was picking the pocket of his great-coat.

He slapped his hands to his sides, and, looking down, saw Gallegher
standing close behind him and holding him by the wrist. Mr. Dwyer had
forgotten the boy's existence, and would have spoken sharply if
something in Gallegher's innocent eyes had not stopped him.

Gallegher's hand was still in that pocket in which Mr. Dwyer had shoved
his notebook filled with what he had written of Gallegher's work and
Hade's final capture, and with a running descriptive account of the
fight. With his eyes fixed on Mr. Dwyer, Gallegher drew it out, and with
a quick movement shoved it inside his waistcoat. Mr. Dwyer gave a nod of
comprehension. Then glancing at his two guardsmen, and finding that they
were still interested in the wordy battle of the correspondents with
their chief, and had seen nothing, he stooped and whispered to
Gallegher: "The forms are locked at twenty minutes to three. If you
don't get there by that time it will be of no use, but if you're on time
you'll beat the town--and the country too."

Gallegher's eyes flashed significantly, and, nodding his head to show he
understood, started boldly on a run toward the door. But the officers
who guarded it brought him to an abrupt halt, and, much to Mr. Dwyer's
astonishment, drew from him what was apparently a torrent of tears.

"Let me go to me father. I want me father," the boy shrieked
hysterically. "They've 'rested