Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1914-07-02

any place for the mister business"
Bill had gradually loosed his clothes
as he talked. He was now ready to
retire. Montgomery saw him lift his
long. powerful arms and take hold
upon the edge of the upper pallet.
Without touching the lower one with
his feet he drew himself up and swung
into bed with the agility and ease Of
an orang.
Good night" he grunted from
above.
Montgomery prepared to retire, and
when he was ready to creep under his
blanket he knelt and bowed his head.
The cell lights had been turned out.
Hearing no sound from below, Bill
leaned over the edge of his pallet and
peered into the checkered shadows
made by the tier lights shining through
their bars. He saw the boy in prayer
and held his peace.
James Montgomery had started the
long treadmill jaunt to the grave of a
life convict. The gong awakened him
In the morning, and he fell in line out
side with the men of his tier, to be
counted and accounted for in the morn
ing report of his tier warden. The
morning meal was dispatched in ST.
lence, al prescribed by the rules, and
he started work in the machine shops.
The careful training his old mother
had given him stood him in good stead.
Every task that came to his hand he
did clearly and quickly. He found
that the dreaded rule of silence was
an advantage. He had much to learn
about machinery and could apply him
self to getting this knowledge without
distraction of any sort. His foreman
found him efficient, steady in his work
and willing. He promised to become
one of the most usEful men who ever
worked in prison garb.
The weeks passed into months and
the months finally rounded out a year,
and No. 60,10s had a white chevron
sewed to his sleeve under the white
disk.
During the first year he had been as
much cut off from the outer world as
If he had gone down to the bottom of
the sea with the crew of a sunken
submarine. Now he was given pencil
and paper. He had earned the privi-
lege of writing a letter. His heart
hungered for a word from or about
his mother.
Resting a pad Of paper m his knee,
he sat on the edge of his cot after the
end of a years work to write to her.
The task was a mighty one. The
very beginning of the letter with the
words Dear mother" shook his whole
nature. His hand trembled violently
and his heart beat so fast that he felt
oped him, so great that 1t left no room
for bitterness or protest. Just the
touch of her dear hand, just a glimpse
of her dear, sweet face and the sound
of one spoken word from her lips!
Could any boon be as great?
The tears filled his eyes and fell upon
the sheet of paper. He turned from
the task. The stretch of hopeless. bar
rem years for both of them was before
his minds eye. He threw himself on
his cot and sobbed.
His burglar cellmate moved uneasily,
not knowing what to say or do In the
presence Of such distress.
"Say, kid" he said at last, "get a
strangle hold OIL the job. Don't let it
floor you. Don't be taking the count,
old fellow. Gimme a chance, and I'll
write the letter for you If you tell me
how to spell the words right"
Montgomery felt the kindness and
humanity in the offer.
"T'm all right now, Bill,' said he.
THANK you. I just lost my nerve for
a minute. I want to write my mother,
and 1 didn't know what to tell her"
Tell herr" echoed Bill. "Why,
there's lots to tell her. Tell her about
the white disk you still got on your
arm and about the white chevron. Tell
her you're the best boy in the Sunday
school and always know your lesson.
Tell her that every time you get a
white stripe there's something doing
for a big, fine record and that after
awhile they will let you out for being
so good"
The suggestion was a worthy one.
BE would tell her all of this, as the
practical ems of the old burglar had
advised. He would tell her also of his
advance in his craft, Of the new tools
he had learned to use, of the machin-
cry he was already building and re-
pairing and of his plans for ~perfecting
mechanical devices. He would draw a
picture of inventions he had in mind
and that he would have patented, of
the fortune that he would make some
day and Of the spending of that for
tune to gain his liberty and prove his
innocence by finding the man who had
killed the Waterman.
That's the stuff, kidr' exclaimed the
delighted old burglar. You're bound
to put it over on them yet. You got
brains. The warden will help you get
your patent, and there's plenty of law
yers In this place to draw up the ap-
pl%ications. Before you know It you
will have money rolling in on you, and
with money you can do anything in
this world. You can buy political in
huence enough to get a pardon. Go to
1t, son, and make the old lady think
that you'll soon be out and be a rich
raap TOO