t her by the arm.

His heart began to beat. "Heavens!" he thought, "what shall I do now?"
His first impulse was to walk away, and think no more about it--to act,
indeed, like any averagely decent man who did not care to be concerned
in such affairs.

He retraced his steps, however, and halted half a dozen paces from their
figures.

"Ask the gentleman! He spoke to me," she was saying in her brassy voice,
through the emphasis of which Shelton could detect her fear.

"That's all right," returned the policeman, "we know all about that."

"You--police!" cried the woman tearfully; "I 've got to get my living,
have n't I, the same as you?"

Shelton hesitated, then, catching the expression in her frightened face,
stepped forward. The policeman turned, and at the sight of his pale,
heavy jowl, cut by the cheek-strap, and the bullying eyes, he felt both
hate and fear, as if brought face to face with all that he despised
and loathed, yet strangely dreaded. The cold certainty of law and order
upholding the strong, treading underfoot the weak, the smug front of
meanness that only the purest spirits may attack, seemed to be facing
him. And the odd thing was, this man was only carrying out his duty.
Shelton moistened his lips.

"You're not going to charge her?"

"Aren't I?" returned the policeman.

"Look here; constable, you 're making a mistake."

The policeman took out his note-book.

"Oh, I 'm making a mistake? I 'll take your name and address, please; we
have to report these things."

"By all means," said Shelton, angrily giving it. "I spoke to her first."

"Perhaps you'll come up to the court tomorrow morning, and repeat that,"
replied the policeman, with incivility.

Shelton looked at him with all the force at his command.

"You had better be careful, constable," he said; but in the act of
uttering these words he thought how pitiable they sounded.

"We 're not to be trifled with," returned the policeman in a threatening
voice.

Shelton could think of nothing but to repeat:

"You had better be careful, constable."

"You're a gentleman," replied the policeman. "I'm only a policeman.
You've got the riches, I've got the power."

Grasping the woman's arm, he began to move along with her.

Shelton turned, and walked away.

He went to Grinnings' Club, and flung himself down upon a sofa. His
feeling was not one of pity for the woman, nor of peculiar anger with
the policeman, but rather of dissatisfaction with