The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1914-04-17

woman. HE amt married, Ell? I'll
/ show him mighty quick whether he Is
He's got a wart on the thumb OF his
| left hand, amt he? Well, he's my hus-
band. I'd know that wart IL 1 saw II
| in a camp meetin'. And he's been string
| in you with all that stun about piracy
and murder. Him a pirate? Ugh" Mrs.
Moran laughed shrilly.
A flush of indignation had crept into
the magistrates fair face. IF what
you say is true he has been deceiving
she declared. He shall leave at once.
officer st. Claire!''
The police girl marched up to the desk
and saluted the magistrate. -
1T appears We have been misinformed,"
said Mrs. Van Allen severely. The man
you arrested. 1t seems, is not what he
pretends to be. l shall not be imposed
upon. He must leave at once"
And III see he does" snorted Mrs
Moran as she followed the police girl
Him a pirate"'
A few minutes later sounds of a scuf-
fie punctuated by an angry wife's brawl-
ing voice offended Mrs. Van Alleen's ears
and to the accompaniment of gleeful
plaudits from the police girls a woman
led a mortified man by the ear from the
station The magistrate smiled in medi-
tation of the triumph of Justice.
But the vacant cell was promptly filled,
for Mrs. Van Aliens police force was
establishing a record in the number of
arrests. Not in many years had so much
villainy been unearthed. Stories OF as
troctous crimes on land and sea were
poured into the magistrates pink little
ear. Hardened offenders who confessed
any degree OF crime from nOsebleed in
public to the conveying of pestilence with
malice aforethought were brought before
the bar OF Justice. And one day the last
vacant room in the Jail was filled.
We have a perfectly lovely crowd Of
men here now" Miss St Claire enIighten-
cd one day. Shall we celebrate by in
wiling the prisoners to a tango tea?''
BY all means" declared Mrs. Van Al
len. wondering why she had not thought
OF II before. "A splendid idea, my dear
Miss St. Claire"
Invitations were issued. and on the
night set for the tango tea the police
force from the magistrate down was in
hutter of excitement. Everybody was
happy, and Mrs. Van Allen herself danced
with penitent who had confessed that
ne once burned an old ladies' home so
that he could photograph the shrieks
OF the victims and sell them to a COM
rany manufacturing graphophone records
In the midst OF her gaiety she caught
glimpse OF the pudgy face of Jerry
Stepping, her sworn enemy. and later
she fancied she saw in a corner OF the
room a certain irrevOCably married man
reputed to have a wart on the thumb of
his left hand. but she permitted nothing
TO mar her happiness.
Jerry stepping sank Imply into n seat
opposite the mayOral swivel chair and
mopcd the sweat from his face
Ready for the funeral OF the lady
cops, eh. jerry asked his honor, the
mayor, sarCastically
Jerry Stepping cursed with much feel
ing. L had it all planted. he whined
Them lady cops had made the Jail so
hOmelike and comfy everybody broke
their necks 10 get in Now is a e time
for riot says / to myself. 'ar.G the
lady cop society will go bust We'll.
fixed II up with Lee Moran. our old
friend. you know. TO see that all the
wives OF the prisoners sWOoped down on
EN- while they was danCin with the
lady cops. Great idca-you give me
credit for that. don't you?''
His honor the mayor nodded magnani- .
mously.
We'll, there wasn't no riot" continued
Stepping with cordial disgust. They
DOlted the doors after u o'clock and no (
body could squceze in II ended by them
TlnhIn Tea as law dDluln ~ as II IL was
2 ladies' SEWN society instead Of Jail .
and the only fellow who was arrested
was Lee Moran.
But Just wait he continued hopeful
~. THE civil service bunch is gcttin
wise to the doinGS. and whcn they cut
nut the tango teas and the Turkish rugs
he place will lCCk so lonesome that the
ady cops will be- glad to get back home
yher" they belong. You get me. don't
rou?''
The mayoral chair squeaked emotional
Y. Maybe in that time both Of us will
,e in jail suggested Smudgins Tipstafr
'heerfully.
Copyright. 1914, by Henry Barrett ChambeTIin.I