The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1896-04-25
PART II.

PART II.
Long before the sun came up, but
when the misty dawn-light began. like
q thin fog. to stream down from q
high and narrow window, my fellow
prisoner arose and resumed his walk.
And with q strange impatience waited
to see II daylight would confirm the
impression that had come upon me as
the dying candle rays were fitting
upon the gloomy walls. But before the
day was strong there came footsteps
down the corridors. The slide-window
in the door was opened, and the thick
voice Of the fat jailOr was poured In
upon US.
Boys, stirring about already? Don't
believe it's. q good plan to stir about
much before you eat a bite. Had an
uncle that broke a colt before break
fast and aged SO fast afterwards that
he died at ninety. Bring the wedding
breakfast this way, Nick. Our cook
got married this morning while the
water was boiling. Hah. how's our
hossthief this mornin'? Came In one
II bein' q nightmare yistidy evenin',
IN? Yes, sir: durin' the off season of
.he year. when the boys amt got much
20 do. they'd as soon hang a man as
aot. But they don't mean no particular
harm by It,"
Thus he talked, while the turnkey
"spread" our breakfast; and he stood
there. his great round face filling the
window, until breakfast was cleared,
and even then he hung about until 1t
grew light enough for me to see him
wink. And this he did several times,
slyly looking at me and then at
Haines. In his "squint" was legible
the fact that ne had been intrusted
with the secret Of my mission, and
cannot say that It was an agreeable
discovery. I fancied that l could al
ready see unconscious betrayal stew
ing through his hanging jOwl. and,
hardened as I was, ! must have blushed
for grew sick at the thought OF stand
ing exposed before that young fellow,
meeting the contemptuOus look OF his
melancholy eyes. Then the daylight
had confirmed the impression left by
the dying candle.
The day wore along, and our ac-
quaintance made but slow progress.
waited for his advances, but he made
none. When not walking, he sat where
the light was strongest, reading lead
colored pamphlet.
What are you reading?" asked.
"A fool thing"
"Who wrote it?''
"A fool"
"Ah, didn't know that a piece Of my
work had found its way into this
place." He laughed. Il suppose 1t
might Just as well have been yours,
but 1t happens to be mine-an amateur
play printed at my own expense"
Has 1t been played?"
"Yes; it had a one-night run In the
church for the benefit Of the same"
WAS 1t a SUGGEST"
quite. Respect for the church debt
forbade anyOnes leaving the house. al
though there was q good deal Of litter
ing when the moon got out Of order.
burned, the negro's fingers and fell
down."
"Whats the name of the piece?"
"'The Detective"
Il suppose you make him a hero"
mo; a black-hearted villain"
SERVED him right" I replied; and 1t
was we'll that he did not look up, for
felt slow shiver creeping over me.
At night another candle was placed
above the door, and sitting In its yellow
glow he grew more inclined to talk Sc
riously of himself. He had been well
educated, had tried to do number OF
things, had done ill-had failed as q
country editor had learned telegraphy,
and at last had settled down to lonely
midnight luncheon in the wayside Of
flee of an express company. was
sorry. for him, for knew that hidden
somewhere q success might lie waiting
for him, as 1t does for many OF US; but
ah, how long 1t lies waiting, and how
rusty 1t has grown when sometime we
find It! His features, now that had
become better acquainted with them,
were weaker, and this increased my
pity; but I was resolved to do my duty;
/ would win him II could.
The days passed and he called me
Dick. We had read the same books.
In our admiration for the same book
or poems lies the first tottering of many
a downfall. In q similar taste we recOg-
nize our second self, and shrewdness
shuts its eyes and dreams.
We talked about books. and those Of
his favorites that had not seen pre-
tended to love. It was night, and the
candle was burning above the door.
We talked about books, and those OF
his favorites that had not seen pre-
tended to love. It was night, and the
candle was burning above the door.
"A man must live with one self and
write with another" he said.
I'VE all have two Selves" I replied.
81 know that I have. One self does
wrong, and the other self, which Is a
sort Of indulgent parent, suffers over
It,"
He looked at me and was silent. A
shadow fell across his face. He looked
up at the candle and said: "We'n soon
be in the dark"
I'VE are always in the dark" I an
swered. 'In darkness while we are do
ing, and only step out into the light
long enough to look back and find that
we did q wrong while in the dark.
would give half my life II could recall
one dark night"
He leaned toward me. "What hap
pened?" he hoarsely asked.
Il don't know but might as we'll tell
you. A trouble aired IL lighter for the
airing. 1t Is the secret trouble that
eats the heart. I am here suspected Of
q crime"
''Yes?" he said, eagerly.