You know their language?"
"But," I protested, "I have no time to go interpreting police court
cases. I don't want the office."
He pushed me out with a friendly shoulder-pat. "You go back and
wait till I send for you. We can lump the cases, and we won't need
you every day."
In fact, they did not need me more than two or three times that month,
at the end of which I drew my pay with many qualms of conscience.
My services were certainly not worth the money I received. Such is
the soothing power of public "pap": on the second pay-day, though
I had performed even less service, I did not feel nearly so bad
about it. My third check I drew as a matter of course. I was "one
of the boys" now, and treated with familiarity by men whom I did not
like a bit, and who, I am sure, did not like me. But the cordiality
did not long endure. It soon appeared that the interpreter in the
judge's court had other duties than merely to see justice done to
helpless foreigners; among them to see things politically as His
Honor did. I did not. A ruction followed speedily--I think it was
about our old friend Mackellar--that wound up by his calling me
an ingrate.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162