the detective slips the handcuffs on the villain in the last act of
Adelphi dramas, we are apt to be misled as to the difficulty which
police officers meet with in the execution of one of the most arduous
parts of their duty.

The English hand-cuffs (No. 1) are heavy, unwieldy, awkward machines,
which at the best of times, and under the most favourable circumstances,
are extremely difficult of application. They weigh over a pound, and
have to be unlocked with a key in a manner not greatly differing from
the operation of winding up the average eight-day clock, and fastened on
to the prisoner's wrists, how, the fates and good luck only know. This
lengthy, difficult, and particularly disagreeable operation, with a
prisoner struggling and fighting, is to a degree almost incredible. The
prisoner practically has to be overpowered or to submit before he can be
finally and certainly secured.

Even when handcuffed, we present to a clever and muscular ruffian one of
the most formidable weapons of offence he could possibly possess, as he
can, and frequently does, inflict the deadliest blows upon his captor.
Another great drawback is the fact that these handcuffs do not fit all
wrists, and often the officer is nonplussed by having a pair of
handcuffs which are too small or too large; and when the latter is the
case, and the prisoner gets the "bracelets" in his hands instead of on
his wrists, he is then in possession of a knuckle-duster from which the
bravest would not care to receive a blow.

On the occasion of my arresting one of the Russian rouble note forgers,
a ruffian who would not hesitate to stick at anything, I had provided
myself with several sized pairs of handcuffs, and it was not until I had
obtained the very much needed assistance that I was able to find the