your poorer fellow citizen?"

"Well, well, we won't argue about that," said the police officer
good-humouredly. "I expect we all do our duty same as we see it; but we
can't all see it the same." He had drunk off his glass and had turned
to go, when his eyes fell upon the face of Jack McMurdo, who was
scowling at his elbow. "Hullo! Hullo!" he cried, looking him up and
down. "Here's an old acquaintance!"

McMurdo shrank away from him. "I was never a friend to you nor any
other cursed copper in my life," said he.

"An acquaintance isn't always a friend," said the police captain,
grinning. "You're Jack McMurdo of Chicago, right enough, and don't you
deny it!"

McMurdo shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not denying it," said he. "D'ye
think I'm ashamed of my own name?"

"You've got good cause to be, anyhow."

"What the devil d'you mean by that?" he roared with his fists clenched.

"No, no, Jack, bluster won't do with me. I was an officer in Chicago
before ever I came to this darned coal bunker, and I know a Chicago
crook when I see one."

McMurdo's face fell. "Don't tell me that you're Marvin of the Chicago
Central!" he cried.

"Just the same old Teddy Marvin, at your service. We haven't forgotten
the shooting of Jonas Pinto up there."

"I never shot him."

"Did you not? That's good impartial evidence, ain't it? Well, his death
came in uncommon handy for you, or they would have had you for shoving
the queer. Well, we can let that be bygones; for, between you and
me--and perhaps I'm going further than my duty in saying it--they could
get no clear case against you, and Chicago's open to you to-morrow."

"I'm very well where I am."

"Well, I've given you the pointer, and you're a sulky dog not to thank
me for it."

"Well, I suppose you mean well, and I do thank you," said McMurdo in no
very gracious manner.

"It's mum with me so long as I see you living on the straight," said
the captain. "But, by the Lord! if you get off after this, it's another
story! So good-night to you--and goodnight, Councillor."

He left the bar-room; but not before he had created a local hero.
McMurdo's deeds in far Chicago had been whispered before. He had put
off all questions with a smile, as one who did not wish to have
greatness thrust upon him. But now the thing was officially confirmed.
The bar loafers crowded round him and shook him heartily by the hand.
He was free of the community from that time on. He could drink hard and
sho