The daily telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1901-1926, 1911-02-16
.AL!AS JIMMY lALENT!NE
From the great play by Paul ARM
strong.
1s10yiby American Press
Association.

ASSpGtittton.
Tho Armstrong drama. OF which the
following Is the noyeli.ed version, Is based
on o. Hehry's story, IA Retrieved Refor-
mation.l
CHAPTER /.
THE warden's Office in Sing Sing
prison is not a pleasant spot in
which to linger, whether you
may be innocent or whether
guilty of a crime. And no more reas-
surfing could be termed the abrupt,
dominating parsonage who presided
over the dismal destinies Of the office
and institution when occurred the
events chronicledSia tlls narrative.
That a man fated by his choice of
occupation to daily associate intimate
ly with criminals Of. high and low de-
gree and to- COME constantly IN per-
sonal contact with I'LL the misery and
depravity going to form the life Of a
states prfson4th i man so fated
should find exquisite enjoyment in &C!
centuating these depressing conditions
is surely a Contradiction Of what ordi.
narily would be expected. Humans Of
normal mold are generally occupied in
amenorating the evils and annoyances
of their surroundings. That is natures
way. Not 80 with Warden Handler.
That which is bad can be made to be
worse. Innocence can be shown to be
gullt-with the aid of trained wit
nesses. Repentance is always insin-
cere, and If 1t is not 1t can be made
so. A murderer should be made to re-
member always his lgnomlny. A thief
should be reminded Of his amateurish
rlumsiness which led him into the
clutches of the eentral Office, men.
That was Handlers philosophy. That
was Handlers way.
And underlying all his petty oppres-
sion and gross inhumanity was a
cause, deep rooted in system Of his
own and Of a race Of jail keepers that
went before him. Exposure? Re-
moyal? Bah! He had considered all
that. And, IL worse came to. worse,
had he not friends in the state senate /?
Was there n9tla governor who would
need his assistance in the state con.
,venton when It cah,e Is a question Of
delegates? Clearly the possibility Of
removal was the least Of his worries.
Warden Handler sat at his polished
oak desk in the middle Of his Office.
At his left was another desk used By
Smith, his secretary. At his bacG the
barred windows looked out into the
prison yard. where at prescribed in.
tervals gangs of convicts were allowed
to take brief outing to breathe in
the air from the hills that Knocked
them, thus to prolong the lives Of
those who hoped to live as well as of
those who hoped to die, thus to
strengthen. the nerves of the unfortu-
mates whom justice had decreed must
some day at sunrise go to shadowy
little stone room to sit in sinister
wooden chair equipped with stout
straps and electric wires.
The warden was In his customary
pesslmistic mood. Good reason for It
this time, too. for s'Chicago Whitley"
u trusty, doing "blt' of seven years,
had got through the guards and drop
ped over the wall on to the top of
car Of an up bound" freight train the
evening before. Not trace OF him
yet. Handlers pride in his record us
a pen master was at stake. and he
blamed himself and the whole universe
for the ofIiciar explanations which
must soon be forthcoming. His dark
eyes cleaned vengefully: his short
cropped black hair fairly bristled with
the rage that surged In the thick skull
beneath it; his strong, square jaws
were grimly set, though now and
again his upper lip would curl slightly
back as he grifted HIS teeth. revealing
q row Of tobacco stained inclsors. Yes,
Warden Handler was disturbed.