The trial was not here ended, as most of us believed. A citizen, who had been an interested spectator of this scene, and who had been fidgeting in his seat for some time, now rose to his feet, and said—“Where is the justice of this? These men are all guilty of the same offence, and yet one is fined five dollars, and the other two get off more leniently, with the loss of three dollars each; this certainly cannot be called justice.” At this the judge showed the first signs of passion. “Sir,” he shouted in wrath, “who is the judge, I or you? If you ever again interfere with our proceedings, in this manner, I shall fine you for contempt of court—contempt of court, sir, contempt of court.” This citizen and lover of justice, collapsed stricken with awe, bluffed and discouraged. “Come, boys,” said the judge, and he led the way back to the bar. There, he produced a two dollar bill, which was part of our fine, and called for drinks for the house. We followed his example, late prisoners and citizens, and were all happy together until a late hour.
The marshal, who seemed to have a little respect for me, for having shown the spirit of free speech before the judge, took me aside and asked whether we intended to take advantage of the invitation given by the citizen who had been threatened for contempt of court—to spend the night at his house. “I don’t think so,” I said; “we have had enough of this town, and intend leaving it tonight.” Shortly after these words we left the saloon, but had scarcely reached the street end, when I heard steps following, and to my surprise, the marshal was soon at our side. Now comes the most extraordinary part of this story, which I have often been diffident in relating, thinking it would not be credited. “Boys,” said this burly fellow, who could not get any sleep day or night, “get you to the railroad, and if anyone interferes with you, tell them that the marshal sent you; I shall be with you in about twenty minutes.” We were soon at the railroad, were not interfered with, and the marshal followed in a short time. “Listen,” he said to us, who were again trespassers on the railroad, at his pleasure and instigation: “There is a train already made up to start in five minutes’ time; get into this empty car, and by heavens, no man shall interfere with you.” Which we did, and when the train started, the marshal was there, beside the car, wishing us a pleasant goodbye. “Why,” said Brum, when I commented in astonishment at all this, “it is nothing unusual. One day,” he began, “I was in a small town in Ohio. Seeing a freight train leaving the station, I leaped into an empty car, just as the train started. When safe inside, I turned and stood in the open doorway, and looking out, saw the marshal standing on the platform, looking after me, so I waved him a sarcastic farewell. But the train, instead of increasing in speed, began to slow, and coming to a standstill, began at once to back towards the station. Before I could decide on my course of action, we were again standing in front of the station, with my car facing the marshal, who seemed to have waited, expecting this to happen. ‘Hallo,’ he cried, ‘come out of that for you are under arrest.’ I was lodged in jail, and was next morning brought up for trial. The marshal gave evidence as to seeing me jump the train, and I was charged with that offence. Having no money, I was about to be sent to jail when the judge asked the marshal to examine my hands which, although I had done no work for a number of years, were still hard and horny. I said that I was a seafaring man, and exhibited pictures of boats and anchors tattooed on my arms, at the same time offering to show the Polly Jane in full sail across my breast. My strange calling, in that inland town more than a thousand miles from the coast, appeared to greatly interest the judge, who, after several friendly questions, discharged me with a caution. Instead of at once taking advantage of my freedom, I sat down, waiting the end of the court. Another prisoner was then brought up, who had been seen loafing on the station platform all the previous day. This prisoner pleaded guilty, and said that he had waited in vain for hours for a freight train to carry him to his destination, he having no money to pay his fare as a passenger. ‘Hold,’ cried the marshal, ‘that is a lie, for I myself saw a train steaming out when you were loafing indifferently on the platform.’ ‘Ten dollars, or sixty days,’ said the judge. This will show you how one prisoner was charged for stealing a ride on a freight train, and another prisoner was charged for not doing so as the opportunity occurred, happening in the same court, and under the same judge. Again,” continued Brum, “I know a prisoner, in an adjoining state, who was sentenced to ten years for embezzlement. The money was never
