CHAPTER V.
Official Excitement.
I was told to be seated. As I turned to the empty chair I was not permitted to sit down. I could not do so. I tried as hard as I could, but I did not move. Again I was spoken to, and told to be seated. This time the voice that commanded me to be seated was gruff and harsh.
I replied: “I am trying to, sir, but I can not move.”
“You sit down. We are going to find out what is wrong with you. I have called in all the higher officers, and we intend to have your case thoroughly investigated this day.”
All this time I did not move—I could not, and presently I heard a voice say:
“Do not sit down. We will not allow you to do so.”
Suddenly I was seized by the officer, and was again told to sit down.
I said: “I would obey if I could, but I can not move.”
“Well, I will move you.”
I could see that the officer made an effort to compel me to move, and I could feel myself grow rigid. Presently I felt myself begin to move toward the door of the inside prison, and for a moment everything seemed dark. I felt a sickening feeling come over me. I began to lose consciousness, and found myself sitting on the chair against the prison door. All the officers were lying on the floor. I cried out for help.
“Come to my rescue!” I cried. “I have not harmed anyone here.”
At that moment guards came from all directions, and shouted: “Open the door!” I could not and did not move.
Again they shouted, and I did not move. I did not look like a dead man, sitting there, but I must frankly say that I felt like one, and if wishes could have been granted, would have been one, for I was in prison for one murder, perhaps two, and from the surroundings it might be several, as these men all looked like corpses to me.
Presently “Bang!” went the door. The guards had gotten great heavy irons and were trying to force the door open. When they succeeded, I was the first one to be taken care of. As a matter of fact, the dead men, as they thought them, could be gotten away in only one way, and that is carried. I could get away, but did not have a chance. But I got something else, a good beating from the officers.
Oh, how I did beg and try to explain to them that I had not harmed anyone! but in vain. I was laid up for some time from the severe treatment.
I knew not what became of the officials, or how badly, if at all, they were hurt. Neither did I know how it happened that they were all lying so helpless on the floor.
It was unfortunate for me, as they did not know of this mysterious power nor of the “lady ghost”—so called, nor of the unseen power which had put our friend in the hospital. He had recovered enough to take notice when the officers were brought into the hospital. He naturally inquired if there had been a prison raid, and the answer was:
“More serious than that. We would be glad to let some of our prisoners go if we could do so, as they seem to do much as they please with themselves and others too. The great mystery is causing much trouble, and we can not find out what is wrong.”
“How long have I been here and why am I here? I am not hurt. I was not attacked by my prisoner. The last I remember I was cautioning him to be careful, as I saw him lifting what no three men could. That is my last recollection. I have not an ache nor a pain, and why am I here? Bring the prisoner to me.”
“We can not. He is also in the hospital. He disobeyed so much that he received such treatment as to be sent to the hospital.”
“He has! Tell me what has he done?”
“To the best of my knowledge, he has murdered five of the officials, all brought in here just now, as you have seen.”
“Murdered! murdered! I want to get to him.”
“You too have been injured by him, and you must remain quiet until pronounced out of danger.”
“I am not injured, and he did not harm me. I must be taken to the office, that I may declare this man innocent of that crime.”
“I shall have to have orders from your physician before I could consider taking you out of the hospital. I fear that you are not yourself, when you say that the prisoner did not harm you.”
“I can swear before all, and by God in Heaven, that he did not. I must be taken to him and tell him that I will say that he did me no harm.”
“You will have plenty of time to prove his innocence, and tell why you are here and how you did get hurt if he did not do it.”
“I am not hurt. I am as well as I ever was in my life, and I must see the doctor and say to him that I must be out of here.”
“Very well; I will go to the doctor and send him to you.”
CHAPTER VI.
Discharged from the Hospital.
“Good morning, sir,” said the doctor when he entered. “I was told that you wished to see me.”
“If it is the rule of this hospital to be discharged by the doctor, then I want to see you. Outside of that I do not need you.”
“Are you preparing to leave here?”
“I am. Why should I remain here? I am not sick.”
“You are not able to leave. I see that you are in a very dangerous condition.”
“Tell me why you say and think so.”
“I am going to say to you that I have seen many such cases as yours—delirious. They do not feel ill and know not what is wrong, and think they are in the very best of health. I will take your temperature.”
“One moment, please—”
“Temperature 104. You are a very sick man. You must remain in this ward.”
“I must save the accused prisoner. He did not hurt me. I distinctly remember that I was saying to him, ‘Be careful!’ and he was not even looking toward me.”
“Well, sir, I fear that you do not understand. I have been attending some of our officials who have been hurt very badly by the same prisoner, and we have him in the mad-house, very dangerously injured by the officer who found them a few minutes after the act had been committed, just as you were found, and he pleaded innocent, just as he did in your case.”
“I will say to you, and I must say to all men, that he did not harm me. I am not ill. I must be discharged from this place.”
“Very well; I will see about it.”
Going to another part of the hospital, where the other patients who had fallen to the floor had been taken, the doctor, turning to the superintendent, said:
“Good morning. You are feeling much better this morning?”
“I am, sir. I do not feel ill. I am not ill, and shall leave for the office at once. Why am I here? I have not been ill. As I awakened this morning I could not for a moment realize where I was and what had happened.”
“Have you no recollection of any trouble?”
“I do not remember of any. Oh, yes! The mysterious ghost is all the trouble I have had for some time. But how is the guard the prisoner hurt? Is he dead? What have they done with him? Did I not order him to be brought in, so that the superior officers might see what could be done? Oh, I do remember, now! It was not clear in my mind until now; now it has begun to clear up so that I can remember. Pray tell me why you brought me here? I do not remember of coming. Who is in charge of the office?”
“An officer is taking care of the office. It is well cared for.
“I have some mail here. Shall I leave it at the office, or here?”
“The officer is able to read.”
“You are not to make me sick by saying these things. I am not sick.
“What have I here? A letter from the murderer of the mysterious woman ghost! What does this mean? Listen:
“‘I want to confess. I did the murdering, and not the prisoner you have there. He is innocent.’
“Well, well! He does not give his name and I wonder how he knows of a mysterious ghost, as I have guarded very carefully about the mystery. I have avoided gossip about the matter, preferring that it should not get out. But I should be glad to free the ghost and let her out. I should be entirely willing if she would go. When I go to the office, I shall send for the prisoner whose name I hear called so much. And I shall show him this letter and notice if any change comes over him.
“Now I shall leave for the office, and you, guard, may bring the prisoner numbered 78 there.”
Soon a guard appeared at my side, saying: “You are wanted at the office. Get up there.”
“I am not able to go. I have been badly hurt, and I am heart-sick. I know that I can not live this life any longer.”
“You will not have to, perhaps, if you knew what I know. You would make an effort to get up and come along with me,” said the guard.
“The right murderer will be in your place soon, and you will be out; so collect your strength, my son, and go. I will help you. I have the strength to help you and I will do so.”
“I hear someone talking, but I do not see anyone. Did you hear anyone?”
“Yes, I did. I heard the voice say, ‘Son, get strength.’ I heard that and more.”
“‘You will be out soon’—did you hear that?”
“I did.”
Once more to “the carpet”—this time with more hope than before, that the truth would come out.
On entering I saw that the officer looked pale. He seemed to be very much worried.
“Good morning, sir. I have a very mysterious letter here. Can you tell me anything about it? You may read it.”
I saw the words, “I am the real murderer of the mysterious woman ghost.” I cried out:
“I prayed to God that the real murderer would come and acknowledge that he did the crime, for I knew that I did not, and I know who did.”
“The name, sir?”
As he wrote it down I could hear a hearty laugh, and so did he.
“Do not laugh, sir. You are not proved innocent.”
“I beg your pardon. I did not laugh.”
“Who did, then?”
“I am not able to say.”
“Officer, take him back. I feel that I must see if this is a letter written by some crank, or was it written as a real confession. It is a mystery. I must say that I think this man is innocent, and I propose to look into this affair thoroughly at once. If he is innocent, he must be released. If not, he must work. I shall write to the authorities at the place where this letter was posted and have them make an investigation. I am of the opinion that this man is not guilty. As I sit here I know that I am hearing the words: ‘My son is innocent and you must release him from this prison.’ Yet I know that the one whose voice I hear is invisible.”
A week passed. There had been no answer from the ones who had been written to in regard to the prisoner. The superintendent grew weary of waiting. He felt that there should have been some reply. He had sent a copy of the anonymous letter of confession.
A guard appeared, and said: “You have a very sick man in 78. I have not been able to arouse him, and I have been working over him for some time.”
Telling the story afterward, the superintendent said:
“I looked at the guard, and at that moment I saw a lady standing beside him. I arose and asked her: ‘What can I do for you, madam?’
“The guard turned to look as she vanished, and said: ‘You are mistaken. I brought no lady here with me.’
“I was so astonished at the remark that I spoke harshly and demanded the guard to tell me who the lady was and how she got in, if he had not admitted her.
“He replied: ‘I am not able to say. I did not see anyone. I came directly to you and did not see anyone here, nor did I notice anyone near as I entered this office.’
“‘Well, what is wrong, now?’
“‘I came to tell you that No. 78 is a very sick man.’
“‘I suppose he thinks that he will get his freedom after the reading of the mysterious letter, but I feel that there is a mystery in connection with the entire matter. There is not enough proof to entitle him to his freedom. Proof of that kind would not go in court—at least, not in this day and age. If he needs a doctor, call one.’
“‘I am at a loss to know what to do with him.’
“As the guard turned to call a doctor for the prisoner I heard a voice say:
“‘He is not sick—only resting. He will soon be out of here.’
“I once more looked to see whence came the voice. But could gain no information as to where or from whom the voice came.
“‘I must get away from this place. I am losing my mind,’ I thought. ‘Perhaps I really have lost it, for I can not explain these strange things. I must get away for a day or so. I will leave the office. Pearson can take care of this case while I am at rest and thinking this matter over. I can think it over away from here.’
“The guard returned in a few minutes, smiling, and with the news that the prisoner was sitting up when he arrived with the doctor. He also said that the prisoner had denied that anything was the matter with him.
“‘So he has been feigning, has he? Well, he shall get no more sympathy from this place. I have decided to rest a few days, and in my place Mr. Pearson will give orders. But I want you to cease at once showing mercy on prisoner No. 78. You may go for Mr. Pearson. I shall leave directions for him to find a place for the prisoner and see that he works.’
“‘I am not sure, but I think that I saw Mr. Pearson talking with the man very recently.’
“‘Well, bring him here. I want to talk with him.’
“I was all a-tremble—just on the verge of nervous breakdown. All on account of this mysterious voice and seeing and not seeing.
“‘Good morning, Mr. Pearson,’ I said. ‘I am leaving for a few days’ rest, and I want you to take charge of this office and see that a convict here, No. 78, is put to work. He is very much averse to doing any work, and we have no pets in this place, so he can not be made one. The guard will report to you from time to time in regard to him.’
“As I was leaving, in an undertone I said: ‘Yes, and if you do not get reports from some others, as well as the guard, I shall be very much disappointed. I hope that you will. I pray that you may, and perhaps I shall have help to find out what all this means. I hope that he will be able to explain all the mysterious actions by the time I return to work.’
“Oh, what a relief it was to know that I was away from that strain for a while, at least!”
The acting superintendent thought: “I am going to see what the trouble is with No. 78. I wonder if that is the fellow who has caused so many mysterious things to happen around here. By George! I believe it is. I will ask the guard. Here he comes.”
“Guard, if that 78 prisoner hasn’t any aptitude for the position he has to occupy, you may bring him in. I will try to find out what vocation he has followed, and see if we can accommodate him.”
As the guard left he shook his head, as if to say: “You can not have any luck in getting that fellow to work.”
But the official in his own mind decided: “My dear old dad has often told me that kind words will do far more than harsh ones or harsh treatment. I am going to treat this prisoner with kindness and gentleness.”
Then the acting superintendent looked up to see if he had a hard criminal to deal with, as No. 78 entered the door with his guard. He sank into his chair, gasping:
“What do I see? My brother! Do my very eyes deceive me, or is it really he? A convict in this place!”
CHAPTER VII.
“My Brother a Convict!”
The official thought: “I must not let myself be known. I must not.”
To the prisoner he said: “You may be seated, sir. I want to talk to you.”
Then to the guard: “I will excuse you, guard. I wish to question the prisoner alone.”
Turning to the prisoner: “Now, sir, I should like to hear something about yourself. Why were you sentenced, and have you registered under your real name?”
“I have, sir. I am not a criminal. I have been sentenced because of strong circumstantial evidence. I am innocent. I did not commit the crime for which I am here.”
“Well, my opinion of you is good. I do not believe that you are a murderer—at least, I hope not. What occupation did you follow before you came here?”
“I was a follower of any work I could do—anything that my strength would permit me to do. I was not a disagreeable man. I made many friends.”
“If you had many, your friends were no help to you in this case. Did not they offer any assistance?”
“No, sir; I was judged wrongly from the beginning—that is, as soon as it was discovered that it was my handkerchief which was found by the dead lady’s side. My friends were nowhere to be found. I received cold and hard looks from all.”
“Well, sir, I have heard your story. I want to ask you where you were born. What is your native country?”
“My home, sir, is in England. When a very small boy, I ran away from home. I have grieved my dear old mother so much. I understand that she has since died, and after I heard that, I never cared to go home again, but I feel that many times she has spoken to me. Often, when I have been attracted to company I did not know well, I could feel that she was near me and I could hear these words: ‘My son, be careful, be careful!’ And I did not and would not go on after getting the warning, as I called it.”
“You talk as if you had tried to live the right kind of a life, and I feel that you have, but in the position which I hold here I must not show any favors; otherwise I would do so in this case. Therefore I must give you work to fit the crime of which you have been accused. That will mean hard work.”
“I am willing to work, but do not give me work that my strength will not allow me to do. I am weak. I do not get the substantial food that you do, therefore I am not able to work hard. You do not know what it means to be punished for a crime committed by another. I am being punished for a murder which I never committed, and I ask you to have mercy on me.”
“You are guilty until proved innocent. I will ring for the guard, and he will place you where you belong.”
As the guard approached the prisoner turned and looked in astonishment. The official also looked, and, describing the scene afterward, he said:
“I was raised from my chair. I do not know by what means. Then I began to feel dizzy and could not speak. I lost my power to see. I could feel someone near, and then I heard the voice of a woman saying: ‘You would sentence your brother to hard labor, to enable you to hold your own position? You, a child of the same mother and father? Have you no mercy on him? My son, take this brother to your arms and let yourself be known to him. Look into this affair and see if he is not innocent. I will release you, and you do with your brother as you would have him do to you. These are the commands of the spirit of your mother.’
“I shall never forget the terrible strain I was in, and as I mumbled brokenly I felt a hand trembling, trying to help me to stand up, and I was given strength by the help of this hand.
“The guard asked for instructions as to where he should place this man—my brother, and I ordered him back to his cell.
“I was at a loss to know what to do. Must I confess—acknowledge him as my brother? or should I pretend to be ignorant of the fact which was plain to my mind? No one knew that he was my brother—not even the man himself knew it. Why should I acknowledge a criminal and a murderer? I could not!
“I thought: ‘I shall place him at once at hard labor. I shall call the guard and have him brought in. I shall try to be brave and not think of boyhood days, when he and I went hand in hand to the dear old school. And dear mother, how she caressed us as she said good-bye! I can hear those words ring in my ears yet: “Run along, children, and study hard, and some day you will be your mother’s pride.” Yes, to-day, if she could be near her criminal son, she would not be so proud of him. She would do as I am going to do, disown him.’
“I had been so deeply engrossed in thought that I had not called for the prisoner, so I called: ‘Guard, I want you to bring No. 78 in here.’
“I felt so uneasy that I thought: ‘Can it be that I have decided wrong in this matter?’
“‘Here he is,’ responded the guard, in a short time.
“‘Come in, and I will find the work for you to do which I think you will be able and trustworthy to do. You may take this coat and hat, and you may remove your coat of stripes, and we will exchange places.’
“‘What! You think that I would not do my part if I were given work which I could do? I know that I would do my part if given work I could do. I know I would do my part. Oh, please give me a chance! I only want an opportunity to live, if I can, those ten years I must stay in here—or, at least, until I am proved innocent.’
“‘Well, how do you think you can prove that you are innocent?’
“‘The real murderer has written to the superintendent and confessed his guilt—or, at least, a letter has been sent here stating that I am innocent.’
“‘You received such a statement?’
“‘I did not, but the officer did—the one whose place you are filling.’
“‘I will look into this matter, at once.’
“‘You may take him back to his cell, guard, and I will send for him again when I have investigated this thoroughly. Take him back, and return at once.’
“I was sure that if he were innocent, he could be proved to be so, and I decided to go about it at once.
“‘A great man, he is,’ said the guard. ‘We have had more trouble with him than with twenty-five of the other prisoners together.’
“‘Do you know anything in regard to a letter written here?’
“‘I do not. I think that the superintendent has taken a letter for use while he is working on the case for the poor devil.’
“‘Well, I will go to the records and see if there is a record of any such letter.’
“‘I hope that you will do something in a hurry, for I am getting tired of pacing back and forward with the gentleman,’ said the guard. ‘I feel that I have need of a pair of shoes sot to going some other direction than from 78’s cell to the office and back.’
“‘Well, Pat, what is your opinion of this case? Do you think the man is innocent, or not?’
“‘I’m not here acting as judge, but if he is guilty, the mon should work. Setting around eating of the victuals and his toime going on just the same!’
“‘The only way to prove his innocence would be for the poor woman to come back and tell how the murder was done, and I don’t think there would be any of us here to do time or see others did if we would see her here telling us how she was murdered.’
“‘I, for one, would be a dead Pat.’
“‘Well, Pat, we are both in doubt about the prisoner’s guilt. Now, as long as he is here and proved guilty, say we find work for him to do. What would there be to do where a man could work and not work?’
“‘Leave him have the same job he has had—rest in his cell when he is not on the road here and back.’
“‘If you want a job of that kind, you misunderstand me, Pat. As I understand the poor man, he has never done very hard manual labor, and to place him to work of that kind, I fear, would make it necessary to soon change again. I am sorry that it had to fall to me to confine a convict to hard labor and feel that he is innocent [in an undertone] and my brother!’
“‘Well, shall I bring the poor devil in? My shoes has pointed that way; every toime I start the shoes on my very feet wants to track to 78’s cell.’
“‘I wish we could arrange everything, Pat, so your shoes could get a rest. It matters not about our minds. Bring him along.’”
CHAPTER VIII.
The Brother Sentenced to Hard
Labor.
The official continued: “As the man left to do my bidding I said to myself: ‘He has gone to bring in my brother for me to sentence to hard labor. What shall I do? I do not feel as if I could utter the words.’
“I was completely upset. I experienced a most peculiar feeling. I thought: ‘Here he comes. I must do my duty.’
“I said to the prisoner: ‘Come in, sir. And how do your feel this morning?’
“Now, the devil take the mon who is two-faced! I brought the prisoner here to be put to work. Instead of that, he is having a nice visit with him. Inquiring about his health!’ Pat was heard mumbling to himself.
“‘Well, sir, I am going to see if you can do the work I will give you to do. I am going to have you take care of the prisoners in seeing that they have water to drink. Now, I will give you instructions. You understand the rules of the prison, and I hope that you will abide by them. Do not speak to any of your fellow-prisoners. You will be passing back and forth around each working booth. They understand how to ask for water, if they wish any.’
“‘Pat, you may show him the way. And see that you do not burden him with a heavy load. Now you may go.’
“‘Well, come along here, pet. I will give you a quart bucket which is light to carry, and if I happen to be going your way, I will help you carry it.’
“I hoped that at last we had found a place which the prisoner could fill. I felt somewhat at ease. I felt that I had done my duty to my brother as well as I could under the circumstances. I hoped that my arrangements would please him and also please the superior officer when he returned. And, by the way, it was time for him to return. I wondered if he had enjoyed his vacation.
“‘Well, your honor.’
“‘What is it, Pat?’
“‘Your pet has refused to carry a full bucket of water, and stands there and looks at it as if he never saw water before. He will not speak a word. I do believe he is petrified—turned to one of those things which looks like a man and is a dead one.’
“‘Pat, I can hardly believe you. I shall have to see for myself. Close the door behind us. We can not leave it unlocked to tempt our prisoners.
“‘You are falsifying, Pat. Is not that the fellow, going there with that bucket of water?’
“‘To be sure it is.’
“‘Then why did you come to me with such reports?’
“‘I came with the truth, your honor, and if the man can be dead one minute and alive the next, then I want to deal with the live ones all the toime.’
“‘You perhaps do not understand how to handle him.’
“‘And faith, I think the majority of them is in the same fix. They have had the same experience themselves.’
“‘Well, as long as everything is all right, we will try and rest easy.’
“‘You are resting easy now. But when the superintendent comes back and finds that when he has left orders to punish a convict you favor him, I think you will have to find yourself another job.’
“When the superintendent entered, I experienced a feeling of relief. I exclaimed: ‘Well, well! Back, and looking fine. I was thinking of you this morning, hoping that you were having a good rest.’
“‘I did not rest much, for reasons that I will explain. I have here a letter, which I received before I left. It purports to have been written by the murderer for whom No. 78 is serving time.’
“‘You have such a letter? But why do you look so excited?’
“‘Have you had any trouble with the prisoner?’
“‘Well, yes and no.’
“‘What is the trouble? You answer me both ways.’
“‘I have placed him to work, and after I had done so I was informed that he refused to work. I was anxious to see for myself, and when I went to investigate, I found him doing his duty. Therefore that is why I answered you as I did.’
“‘To hard labor, as I instructed you to do?’
“‘Well, yes, hard labor for him, as he explained that he had never done any hard labor. I hope that you will be pleased with the work I have given him to do.’
“‘And what work has he been instructed to do?’
“‘I have given—well, I thought he could be very useful in doing such work as that, and I asked Pat to start him at once.’
“‘Yes, yes; I think that is a good job. Call Pat. Push button No. 9. Pat is an Irishman who will tell the truth.’
“‘You are very nervous. I have noticed your peculiar actions ever since we began to talk of this affair.’
“‘Good mornin’, your honor. I am very glad to see that you have returned.’
“‘I am glad to be here. Pat, what has become of No. 78? Is he working? I hope to have some knowledge of him when you have finished talking. I have not been able to find out much through Mr. Pearson, here.’
“Well, sir, I am only here to do as directed, and I follow instructions to the letter, and if I am told to go out and bate a fellow to death, I would do it, so in this case I did as I was instructed to do.’
“‘You are a noble officer, sir. I think you have been requested to tell me what has become of No. 78. As yet you have not followed your instructions.’
“‘I will bring the rascal in here and let him tell you what he is doing.’
“‘Is he running at large, doing nothing?’
“‘Yes, sir, and has the privilege of carrying some water along to take a drink when he gets thirsty.’
“‘Bring him here. I will try to find out from him what orders have been given him.
“‘I am going to see if I can solve this mystery. Mr. Pearson, are you ill? You are looking very pale. Do you feel ill? What is the matter? Are you faint?
“‘Come along, Pat, step lively. Bring your prisoner in, and call Doctor Gray. Mr. Pearson is very ill.’
“The prisoner entered, saying: ‘I am so glad to see you here and see you looking so refreshed.’
“‘Yes, I think I shall hold my fresh looks a long time here and have a myth, like you, to deal with.’
“‘I beg your pardon, sir, I have not caused you any trouble. I am not disobeying the rules. I never have.’
“‘You are doing what now?’
“‘I am carrying water for my fellow-prisoners to have a drink, as they need water so often.’
“‘Come in, doctor. I have a patient here for you. Mr. Pearson is very ill.’
“At that moment I lost consciousness.”
CHAPTER IX.
The Superintendent Tries to Solve
the Mystery.
“Mr. Pearson has fainted. I have just returned from my vacation. Please get some water. I think it is nothing serious.”
“I don’t understand the case. His pulse is normal. His temperature is not high enough to indicate extreme illness. Yet he seems to be in a very deep faint. You had better call another doctor. I am at a loss to know what to do.”
“I will ring for one at once. Here is Pat. I’ll send him for Doctor Simson.
“Pat, go at once and bring Doctor Simson. We are not able to bring Mr. Pearson to.”
Pat was heard mumbling to himself: “Another mysterious case. I’m going to leave this prison, and I would not blame the others if they did the same, prisoners and all.”
“Dr. Simson, you are wanted at once, at the main office. The officer, Mr. Pearson, is a dead man—or, at least, he looks it.”
“Well, Pat, if he is dead, there is no use in my going.”
“You better go and see for yourself. There are some funny doings going on around here. Men look like dead ones, and not dead. I hope I won’t be looking like a dead one and disappointing my friends. You must be coming along. They sent me for a doctor, and, faith, I would bring you at once.”
“Well, Pat, I am ready. So your patient looks like a dead one, hey?”
“You may decide that for yourself when you get there.”
“Well, here we are. I shall soon see.
“Good morning, Mr. Officer. What have we here? A sick man?”
“Good morning, doctor.”
“Doctor, what would you do in a case like this? I am not able to tell what is wrong.”
“Have you taken his temperature?”
“I have.”
“And what is it?”
“Normal.”
“In so dead a faint, and normal?”
“You may take his temperature and see if I am mistaken.”
“You are right, doctor. The best thing to do is to let the patient rest a few moments. I see no serious danger. I do not really understand the case.”
“Pat, you may bring in the stretcher and we will take him to the hospital.”
“I have been set to carrying the dead to the cemetery when they could not speak any more.”
“You are having some trouble with one of your prisoners here, I understand.”
“We are, doctor, and here he is.”
“He does not look like a sickly man, but, my dear sir, you can not always tell by looking at a man what strength he has.”
The prisoner interposed: “I am not a strong man, doctor, but I am strong enough to work if I were given work that I could do.”
“We have placed him in many places, and we have not been able to find out what he can do.”
“I am doing all that is required of me, am I not, at the last work you have given me to do?”
“You are, as far as I know, but you were sentenced here to hard labor. I must obey the orders of the courts.”
“What is the poor man here for? He talks as if he were a good sort of a fellow.”
“Murder. Does that sound as if he were a good fellow? And a poor woman, at that—strangled her to death. A horrible death.”
At that moment a voice was heard saying: “You are accusing him wrongfully. He is not a murderer.”
Turning to look for the speaker, they were surprised to see Mr. Pearson ready to speak.
“Well, sir, you have recovered. How do you feel?”
“I have not been ill.”
“Well, we have been very busy for the last half-hour, trying to get you to speak.”
“Pat, you may take the stretcher back. The patient will be able to walk to the hospital if he needs to go.”
“The way these fellows have of dying and coming to life again must be a trade they have learned.”
“Are you not going to let me work, sir, at what I was last given to do?”
“You are going to hard labor. No more of this playing off around here.”
“Very well, sir.”
“I don’t think that you need my services any longer,” said the doctor. “The officer seems all right, and he says that he is. I shall return to the hospital.”
“Now, Mr. Pearson,” said the superintendent, “please explain to me—when orders were given to put this man to hard work, you gave him a trusty job.”
“I did the best I could. I am not a heartless man. The poor fellow said he could not do hard manual labor, and I believe he told the truth, and I am willing to give him a trial, for proof of his honesty.”
“You know of all the crimes he has committed while in here, do you not? Or, at least, tried to and failed.”
“In what way, pray tell me?”
“Trying to murder the guards. I, for one, had a peculiar experience with him. Found myself in the hospital—fortunately, not hurt, however, but not able to explain what had happened.”
“Now you will have to work, sir, and I am going to call Pat. I can trust him to see that you do.
“Pat, take this fellow to the booth where they prepare iron for shipping, and see that he works. And I shall assign you, Pat, to take care of him, and him alone. We shall see if this mystery can be cleared up.”
“Come along with me, pet 78. I will make a sure enough dead one out of you if you trifle with me. When I have instructions to do anything, I generally do it.”
“Now, Mr. Pearson, I shall have to reprimand you. You are working under my instructions. I, bear in mind, hold a higher position over you, and you will have to explain to me the whys and wherefores of what you did, as you did not follow my directions.”
“I followed your instructions, sir, the best I could, after Pat spoke of a letter which was received here by you, written as a confession of the crime for which this poor fellow was doing time.”
“So your sympathies got such a hold over you that you use the expression ‘poor fellow,’ do you? My opinion is that the letter was a hoax to get sympathy for him while here. It was probably written by some friend of the man’s on the outside.”
A voice said: “You are accusing my son wrongfully, and you must suffer for it.”
“My God! Did you hear that?”
“Did I hear that? Yes, and I have heard that and more so many times that I have become quite familiar with the voice and do not feel alarmed at hearing it. Tell me what it was—you!”
“You, you, tell me what you think it was, and I will tell you something, then.”
“Well, sir, I am not going to try to express myself, for I can not do so, but I will go back to my part of the work.”
“You will remain here with me and express yourself as to what your belief is in regard to the mysterious voice we hear.”
“Come, quick!”
It was Pat’s voice.
“Come quick! The fellow is talking himself to death. I have bate him for half an hour and he is still talking, and devil a bit does he care for my bating.”
“I will leave you and go with Pat.”
“You will have to do something quick. He has disturbed the whole prison and the bating I gave him helped to excite the other prisoners’ curiosity to know what the man was being baten for.”
“Right this way, I think, is the nearest, Pat. Avoid excitement as much as possible.”
“You will see the poor devil throwing his hands and telling that he is not the murderer. And he is mumbling something about not going to be punished for a crime he never committed.”
“You in trouble again? Not satisfied without disturbing the prisoners as well as the officials?”
“I beg your pardon, sir, I have been doing all I could do, and working, sir, since you placed me here. I felt a dizziness come over me. I don’t know how long I stood before I regained myself.”
“Do you feel as if you had had a good beating?”
“I? No, sir, I do not.”
“Then the devil take the man I will ever punish again,” said Pat; “I’ve been working myself out of breath bating him and then he stands up there and tells that he didn’t know he got a bating.”
“You feel as if you could do the work, do you?”
“I will try, sir. It is awful hard and I feel I haven’t strength to last the day through, but I will go as long as I can.”
“Now, Pat, we will return to the office, and I want you to tell Mr. Pearson the trouble you had with this fellow, and while you are telling him, and telling how quietly he was working, you as well as I will watch Mr. Pearson’s face and see how much sympathy, if any, goes out to the prisoner.”
“Indade, your honor, I have noticed the sympathy shown to the prisoner by Mr. Pearson, while you were away. He even offered to exchange coat and hat with the man, and job too.”
“Pat, are you telling me the truth? A man holding the position which Mr. Pearson does, making such sacrifices as that with a prisoner, and one who is here sentenced for the crime which he is? Now, before we go in, I caution you to be watchful.”
“Well, Mr. Pearson, a time we have had with the 78 convict, a murderer, and the worst hypocrite I ever saw.”
“You found things as Pat represented them, did you?”
“No, I did not. The fellow was working very hard when we reached the place.”
“The same thing occurred with me. I once hastened to investigate and found him as you did, doing his duty. So, sometimes, we are not to judge the poor prisoner too harshly, for we are not always informed correctly.”
“I am here to speak for myself. I am the one who has informed you, as well you know, and I will prove to you, your honor,” said Pat, “that I gave the man a good bating.”
“Yes, that would not be hard for me to believe. You did that, but it would be hard to make me believe some of the reports that have been made against the prisoner.”
“You seem to take a deep interest in No. 78. What is the secret, pray tell me?”
“I have no secret, sir.”
“I have a secret which I shall tell some day, and you will believe me,” a voice was heard to say.
CHAPTER X.
Pat Allows the Prisoner to Escape.
“I am going to leave you in charge of this place and I am going to investigate. I shall don a suit of one of the guards and follow this man around from morning until night and see if I will have any trouble with him.
“Come along, Pat. Find me a club. That is about the first thing I shall have to do—use it on goodness knows whom. But someone is going to get a punishment from me.”
“If you find a job with the last fellow I had to bate, you will have a good job.”
“Now, Pat, did you notice any strange actions about this mutt, Mr. Pearson? I did, and I am under the impression that some secret lies there, and the old saying is, ‘Murder will out.’”
“You are not of the opinion that he is guilty of murder?”
“I see, Pat, that you do not understand me. I believe that Mr. Pearson knows this convict, in some way that he does not care to tell. There is a mystery there.”
“Now, here is a club I have carried, and I know a good one. And if you want two, here is another.”
“What would I do with two, Pat? One is all you can use at one time.”
“Well, I’m thinking that if he had two clubs in his hands, as he was throwing them, I would never have been able to give him the bating I did.”
“I hope that I shall not have to use one, Pat, much less two. Now, I am going to take charge of the prisoner, and, Pat, as I shall be close to him all of the time, you had better drop around to the office quite often and see how Mr. Pearson is getting along.”
“I will do that, your honor.”
“You may go—no, I will go alone, as I will then be less liable to be noticed.”
“Very well. Good luck to you and your new job.”
“Now for the mystery to be solved,” said the superintendent. “I shall follow that fellow until I satisfy myself who is right and who is wrong. And I shall find out if Pat is as faithful as he has been supposed to be. I feel that the accused man has someone to help him in all of this work, but who the helper is, that I should like to know.”
As he approached the prisoner the superintendent said: “I thought that I would take care of you for a while—or, at least, try to. I see that you are doing very nicely, and I am glad. I hope that you will try and live up to the rules. You may speak to me when spoken to, but do not speak without being spoken to.”
“I am going to pass by and take a peep at our new officer, and see how he likes his job,” said Pat. “Well, be jabers, he is not here! Where in the deuce has he gone? Say, do you hear me? Shake this door if you do. Spake, and if you don’t spake, spake anyway.
“Well, I’ll have to find out if he has drew his wages and quit his job, without giving the firm notice. Hello! hello! Well, the only thing I can do is to go for the other fellow. I think he has got a key. Perhaps the next fellow that gets the job will be me.
“What in the deuce do I see, away back in the corner? As sure as I am alive, it is him. Well, well, wake up! You have got a easy job, I know, but I don’t think you need to lay down and go to sleep by the side of it.
“Well, I can’t wake the poor devil, but I know someone who can. And I would hate to be in the poor devil’s shoes if that one comes in and finds him slapin’. So here’s to the office and report, as I promised to do, if I lose my job by doing so. Someone is sure going to lose his job here, and that very shortly.”
“Well, Pat, what are you doing around here?” said the superintendent. “Why are you looking so excited? I am getting along fine here.”
“Well, I am not getting along fine there.”
“What is wrong, Pat?”
“The fellow that you left in your office has laid down and gone to sleep on the job. And he locked the door before he did so. He was very careful that no one could get in or out.”
“Gone to sleep? And the door locked? Here, you watch this man and I will see what is the meaning of this.”
“If he don’t get his nap out before the officer gets there, it will be a pity.”
“Here! What is wrong, Mr. Pearson?”
“Wrong? Nothing is wrong.”
“Where have you been?”
“I have been here, sir, and very busy.”
“Now, Mr. Pearson, were you not asleep with the door locked on the inside?”
“I am not guilty. Pat has been giving you some more reports—and false ones, if he has told you that I was sleeping. I have not felt well, in the last thirty minutes. I felt a dizziness come over me, but I feel all right now.”
“Do you know if you were asleep at any time, or in a faint, while you were feeling dizzy?”
“I was not, sir. I was sitting at this desk, as you see me.”
“And I am being deceived by one in whom I have placed confidence. Pat is a good fellow. I can not believe that he would deceive me. Perhaps, after all, I had better watch him, as well as the other one,” thought the superintendent. “I need help. I have too many to watch. I can not be here and there too, but I will stay by the prisoner until I have satisfied myself that he is right or wrong.”
“Come quick! Help! help! The fellow has turned into a woman and it looks as if there were half a dozen people where he is,” called Pat; “and he spakes like a woman. All he would have to do would be to put on a woman’s clothes and you would let him pass out on her voice, be jabers! She might be cultivating the voice to make her get away, but when they get by Pat they will have to go when I am aslape, for I am not here to let anyone get away without their papers of freedom. You will have to come, as the prisoners are killing time, listening to the lady speaking.”
“Now, office superior,” said Mr. Pearson, “you have so much confidence in Pat, leave him in charge of the office, and I will go with you to see what is wrong with the prisoner—78.”
“I will do that.”
“Pat, take care of this office until we return. Come along, Pearson. Make haste, this way.”
“Well, I felt all along I would be the man to fill this place, and some day this Irishman will be called the ‘supperior officer’ around this prison. I hope they will succeed in finding the lady still talking—or the gentleman, whichever it is.”
“Well, officer, do you see anything wrong? The fellow is working.”
“I do not understand this, and no excitement among the prisoners.”
“Well, I say the trouble is in the false reports made by Pat.”
“We will go back to the office and I shall ask Pat to explain what he meant by causing all this excitement by false reports. Now that we are on the way back to the office, I want to talk to you about those mysterious voices. How do you account for them? Well, I was in hopes you would be able to tell me something. What have you heard, Pearson?”
“I have heard more than I care to hear again.”
“You are not frightened, are you?”
“Well, I am not praying to hear any more of it.”
“I am going to say to Pat that he is not fooling anyone any more; the next time he comes with such stories, he will be sent back to take care of his own trouble. What, the office door open? What does that mean? Where is Pat?”
CHAPTER XI.
The Mystery Deepens.
“I think Pat has left the place. After all his false reports, he will, or perhaps has, felt that he will be discharged, and will go before notice is given.”
“Here he comes. Well, Pat, what do you mean? Is that the way you do when trusted with the care of this office? Did I not say to you that I had all confidence in you? And now you have given me cause to doubt you in all things.”
“Your honor, would you have confidence in me at all if I would sit here and let the prisoners all walk out? Just about two minutes ago a lady came to the office and asked to come in. After I opened the door, she just walked right through the office and out of the door. I called to her to halt, and she did not stop, and I made a start for her, and in all my life I never saw a female get the space between her and me as she did.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you have let some of the prisoners get away?”
“I mane to tell you that the lady that came through that door got away—prisoner, or whatever you may call her.”
“Pat, I am not going to discharge you now, for I shall have to see what convict it was and what was her sentence here. Then I shall be better able to deal with you. I am sorry, Pat, that you have proved to be such an untrustworthy guard, and I, as well as Mr. Pearson, here, have found you to be misrepresenting things all along and causing any amount of trouble. Now you may go and do what the last orders gave you to do, and I will take care of my man. If you find any more strange things around here, don’t come to me. I shall not go to investigate another call from you. Now go.”
“Your honor, I would like to spake a word in my own behalf. I am not as you have expressed yourself that I was, untrustworthy. I will swear to my Father in Heaven that I have been honest, honest in all my actions, and when I called for help, you were informed right. I gave the correct reports, and I want to say now that if you have that kind of opinion of me, I will lave the prisoners and you may look for another Pat. I am not a thafe. If so, I would be wearing the stripes instead of the blue, and I feel I have been misjudged. I hope that you will find out that Pat was just what you thought, true and trustworthy, and I will say to you that you had better keep an eye on your fellow-officer, Mr. Pearson. I feel that he has caused you to form the opinion you have.”
“Pat, go and do your duty, and all will work out right by and by.”
“I will, your honor; but whenever you want the club I carry, the same is yours for the asking. I am ready to quit when I am not the gentleman I should be.”
“Pearson, have you ever had any trouble with Pat?”
“I have not.”
“I believe that you and he have not the best of feeling for each other. Can you explain the condition?”
“I have no grievance against Pat. I do not understand why he should bring in such alarming reports, reports which on investigation prove to be untrue, absolutely untrue, with no base or foundation whatever, and that is why I am not particularly fond of Pat.”
“It is all a very strange affair. During my absence did you have a conversation with Convict 78? And what was the object of that conversation? What was your reason for dismissing Pat, after he had brought the convict in?”
“I do not remember doing so.”
“I have been informed that you did. There should be no secrets among the officials and the prisoners.”
“I am going to explain. I am the mother of these two boys, and the Prisoner 78 and my son Pearson, here, are brothers. Pearson knows that his brother is an innocent man, but is ashamed to acknowledge his brother. But the prisoner is as innocent as you, who are trying to punish him for a crime he never committed.”
“Do you hear that voice, Pearson?”
“I do, but from whom does it come? There is no one here that I can see.”
“You will see me,” the voice was heard to say.
“‘I will see you.’ Did I hear that? Did you get that, officer?”
“I did, and I heard more; I heard the same voice say that you and this man, Convict 78, were brothers. Did you hear that?”
“I did.”
“Well—”
“I am not sure of it. I only know that he carries my name, and his Christian name is the same as that of a brother of mine whom I have not heard from in years. He ran away from home when a small boy, and we never heard from him afterward. We thought he was dead, as he never returned or wrote. Poor mother grieved herself to her grave for that lost, wayward son. I remained home with her until she died.”
“And the estate—did you advertise for him?”
“My father died when I was a small boy and left mother in good circumstances. I and this brother who left home were the only heirs.”
“And you got the bulk of the estate? Did I understand you to say that you advertised for your brother?”
“Well, you see, it was this way: not hearing from him for so many years, I decided that he was dead, and I did not think it worth while.”
“You are not sure that this is not your brother, then, Mr. Pearson?”
“No, I am not sure.”
“Well, I will send for him and we perhaps may be able to find out by questioning him. Ring for Pat.”
Just then Pat, mumbling, “I will stroll around and see if the supperior officer has changed his mind about me being a gentleman,” appeared.
“Here is Pat, now.”
“Pat, bring in No. 78, at once.”
“Whenever the man says ‘Pat,’ I know that 78 is wanted. Well, if that don’t bate annything! I wonder now what he has done? I know that he has been good the last half-hour, for I have been watching him with my own very eyes, and devil take the one that has lied on him, now. Look at the poor fellow! He has the same feeling that I have. Every time he sees me coming he knows that he is wanted.
“Well, you are wanted at the office, and come along quick, and have it over with. I feel very queer—I feel like I have ate a fly for my breakfast. Only a different feeling comes on a fellow so quick when something is going to happen, and you don’t know what it is.
“Your honor, do you want him now? If so, here he is.”
“If I did not want him, Pat, I should not have sent for him. You may be seated over there.”
“You see, the convict is sometimes treated with poor courtesy. Then I—I have not been asked to have a chair,” Pat was mumbling to himself.
The officer turned to the prisoner:
“You are enrolled here in the name by which you were christened, are you not?”
“I am, sir.”
“Clarence Pearson, is that your real name?”
“It is, sir.”
“Do you remember anything about your people?”
“I do, sir.”
“Tell me all you know about your family, and the number of children, brothers and sisters, and if your parents are living, and where you were born.”
“I was a small boy when I left home, many years ago. My father I don’t remember much about. My poor dear mother has often told me that I was quite young at the time of his death. I have no sisters. I have one brother, who was at home when I left. I have since heard that my dear mother has died. After I heard that, I never had the heart nor courage to go home again.”
“Was your mother in comfortable circumstances?”
“Oh, yes, sir! My mother was a wealthy woman.”
“And you will swear that that is your name?”
“I will, sir.”
“Pat, you may take him back.”
“You will not close the iron doors behind my child again! He is far more a free man, or should be, than the one sitting there in silence.”
“Well, Pat, why don’t you take him? He is ready.”
“So am I, but when you tell me to do a thing, and then tell me not to, how in the name of common sense do I know what to do?”
“I have given you only one instruction, and that was to go.”
“Well, then, who the devil told me not to take him?”
“Did you get such orders?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Just now, and I got more than that.”
“What did you get?”
“I heard a voice—where it came from I don’t see, but my hearing is good—and this is what it said—I will look about me and see that I am not knocked down after I tell what I heard.”
“Go on, and tell what you heard.”
“Faith, and I will tell every word of it. I heard—as you finished telling me to take him back—I heard a voice say: ‘The doors will not close behind—’”
“I can’t think what is the matter, Pat.”
“I am getting them. I will be a dead man, here, soon, like some of the other ones around here has been. Anyway, I didn’t take the man back, did I?”
“Pat, you are acting funny. What is the matter with you?”
“Come along here! I will lock you up if you are the guilty one.”
“Pat, you are not going to take Mr. Pearson. He has not committed a crime.”
“I say, come along here! You are the thief, to rob your brother of all and then sit and let him suffer.”
“You are going mad, Pat. I shall have to call for help if you do not turn Officer Pearson loose.”
“Call for help. All the power you have in this prison could not conquer me.”
“I shall turn in a general alarm if you do not let him go.”
“Turn in your alarm. I am ready to fight for my innocent son’s freedom, and you too know that he is not a murderer, yet you sit there and allow him to suffer, and for another’s crime. Here is the murdered woman standing here declaring his innocence—and the real murderer is her husband, and you have not made an effort to find him. Go look for him. Place my innocent boy in a closed room, if you like, but never behind bars. I will free him, as I have done all the time here, if you dare to place him behind bars again!”