For years, the Blackwell's on the Island had been the best place for Soapy to spend the cold winter.
And now the time was to come, so Soapy had planned his "trip" to the Island. There were many easy ways of doing this. The most pleasant was to have a big meal at some expensive restaurant, and then, having no money to pay, he would be handed over to a policeman. But as Soapy set foot in the restaurant, the waiter drove him out because of his dressing.
Then at the Sixth Avenue, Soapy took a stone and threw it at the glass of a shop. He waited to be arrested. However, the policeman paid no attention to him.
Soapy entered another restaurant successfully. After a satisfying meal, Soapy told the waiter he was penniless, hoping the police would come. Unluckily, he was just thrown out rudely.
Soapy forced himself to molest a young lady. He even tried to step into a store and go off with a man's umbrella. How he hoped that he could be taken away by the policeman nearby. But things always went against his will.
On the sidewalk, Soapy began to shout drunken at the top of his voice. Still, the policeman gave no care to him. He didn't get any punishment.
Would never a policeman lay hands on him? Soapy was hopeless. The Island seemed an unreachable dream. Then, on an unusually quiet corner, Soapy came to an old church. The sweet anthem from the church caught and held him. It caused a sudden and wonderful change in his soul: he would make a man of himself again. Tomorrow he would go and find work. He would be somebody in the world. He would— Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked quickly around into the face of a policeman.
"What are you doing here?” asked the policeman.
"Nothing." said Soapy.
"Then come along." said the policeman.
"Three months at the Blackwell's." said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.
