It was my idea, in case anything happened to me, to so time the occurrence as to throw my custom into the hands of the opposition coroner on the American side.
At last a policeman came along, and arrested me for disturbing the peace by yelling at people on shore for help.

The judge fined me, but I had the advantage of him.

My money was with my pantaloons, and my pantaloons were with the Indians.
Thus I escaped.

I am now lying in a very critical condition.

At least I am lying anyway---critical or not critical.