"Brayvo!" Then when he was beginning his third baker's shop, he was stopped by half a dozen policemen hammering with truncheons at his shins.

"Look here, my fine giant, you come along o' me," said the officer in charge.
"You ain't allowed away from home like this.

You come off home with me." They did their best to arrest him.

There was a trolley, I am told, chasing up and down streets at that time, bearing rolls of chain and ship's cable to play the part of handcuffs in that great arrest.

There was no intention then of killing him.