" The law, missing the right
quarry, descends on the slower-moving, harmless bum. And often some poor
"fall-guy" gets a good "frame-up" for a job he never thought of ... and
the majesty of the law stands vindicated.
* * * * *
The charge against us was vagrancy. We were tried by twos.
"Come on, buddy!... you an' your pal."
My companion and I were led in before, I think, a justice of the peace.
The latter was kindly-disposed toward me because I was young and looked
delicate.
When I began my plea for clemency I appropriated the name, career, and
antecedents of Simmons, the young soldier whose body-servant I had been,
back in San Francisco. The man on the bench was impressed by my story of
coming of a wealthy family ... my father was a banker, no less.
The justice waved me aside. He asked my buddy to show his hands. As the
callouses on the palms gave evidence of recent hard work, he was set
free along with me. We were the only two who were let off. The rest were
sent up for three months each, I am told....
And, after all that, what did my buddy do but up and steal my blanket
roll, with all in it--including my Caesar and Shakespeare--and my extra
soldier uniform--the first chance he got!...
* * * * *
An American who had married a Mexican girl gave me work sawing and
chopping wood.
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