sponded Maguire.
"That's a dangerous thing to do with married folks, or them as ought to
be married. They'll fight like Kilkenny cats until the good Samaritan
comes along and then they form a trust and beat up the Samaritan."

"I think most women these days need a little beating up anyway, to keep
'em from worrying about their troubles," volunteered Officer Dexter.
"I'd have been happier if I had learned that in time."

"Say, nix on dis blarney, youse!" interrupted the Monk, who was trying
to wriggle out of the arm hold of Burke and Maguire. "I ain't gonter
stand fer dis pinch wen I ain't done nawthin."

A police sergeant, who had heard the whistle as he made his rounds, now
came up.

"What's the row?" he gruffly exclaimed. Burke explained. The sergeant
shook his head.

"You're wasting time, Burke, on this sort of stuff. When you've been
on the force a while longer you'll learn that it's the easiest thing to
look the other way when you see these men fighting with their women.
The magistrates won't do a thing on a policeman's word alone. You just
see. Now you've got to go down to Night Court with this man, get a
call down because you haven't got a witness, and this rummie gets set
free. Why, you'd think these magistrates had to apologize for there
being a police force! The papers go on about the brutality of the
police, and the socialists howl about Cossack methods, and the
ministers preach about graft and vice, and the reformers sit in their
mahogany chairs in the skyscraper offices and dictate poems about sin,
and the cops have to walk around and get hell beat out of 'em by these
wops and kikes every time they tries to keep a little order!"

The sergeant turned to Maguire.

"You know these gangs around here, Mack. Who's this guy's girl?"

"He's got three or four, sergeant," responded the officer. "I guess
this one must be Dutch Annie. Was she all dolled up with about a
hundred dollars' worth of ostrich feathers, Burke?"

"Yes--tall, and some fighter."

"That's the one. Her hangout is over there on the corner, in
Shultberger's cabaret. We can get her now, maybe."

The sergeant beckoned to Dexter.

"Run this guy over to the station house, and put him down on the
blotter for disorderly conduct, and assaulting an officer. You get
onto your post, Maguire, or the Commish'll be shooting past here in a
machine on the way to some ball at the Ritz, and will have us all on
charges. You come with me,