AN ATTEMPT TO BRIBE THE PRISONER.
“I have been a wanderer, and have eaten many a back-door hand-out, but
I have never stolen nor murdered. I did not commit this crime. You, my
brother, are free, and have money to bribe me with, and yet you do not
care enough for your own flesh and blood to look up the real murderer. I
do not want your money. I have two strong arms, and can work, as I have
always done.”
“Then you would work all your life, a poor man, rather than accept a
little bribe, would you?”
“Yes, under the circumstances, I would. I feel that in the end I will be
better prepared to meet my dear mother, when called home, than you will
be. Did I not have something coming to me from the estate? My mother was
a wealthy woman when I left home.”
“Well, we had many reverses in business affairs, and she died practically
a poor woman.”
“I may be spared to live my sentence here if I am not found innocent and
discharged, and then I shall return to the old home and investigate
affairs and see if I am not entitled to a share in my dear mother’s
estate.”
“Why can you not believe me? I have explained. She died practically a
poor woman.”
“You are not a poor man, are you, brother?”
“Well, I have a comfortable home.”
“Is that all you have?”
“I do not feel disposed to explain everything to you.”
“Where were you to get the five thousand dollars to bribe me with? Have
you got that much money besides your comfortable home?”
“I shall have ten years to get that.”
“Oh! you are buying me to commit a crime and have no money to give me
after I have done so?”
“As I have stated, you are here for ten years. At the time of the
expiration of your term I would in all probability have that amount.”
“May I ask you why you wish me to deny my name?”
“Well, Clarence, I am holding a good position here, and I could not,
perhaps, if it were known that I had a brother inside of these walls.
Besides, I have a family in society, and it would injure them if this
should all come out.”
“You are thinking of yourself and your family and society, and not
once have you given your poor brother a thought of sympathy. And he is
innocent of crime.”
“I am trying to help you. Have I not offered you five thousand dollars at
the end of your term?”
“You are not helping me. No, sir. I have registered under my own name,
given me by my dear parents, and I have no cause to disown it. I did
nothing to disgrace it, and I am not going to be tempted with your money.”
“I am sure that you will regret this, Clarence. I would favor you in many
ways while you were serving your sentence.”
“Could you not do so, as you are one of the officials, without my doing
as you wish me to do?”
“Well, no. I should be suspected.”
“Then how could you do so if I did as you request me to do—disown my
name?”
“Well, well!”
“You are doing wrong, Oliver, to try to get me in deeper instead of
helping me out. Why don’t you go out and look up the real murderer and
prove your brother innocent? I am quite sure I should not disgrace you
if it were proved that I had been sent here an innocent man.”
“You see, after one has been behind prison bars, he is always looked down
upon by the public.”
“But not in the eyes of God. He knows the guilty from the innocent.”
“Then you feel that you would rather stay in prison and work ten years,
and go out a broken man and penniless, than to receive five thousand
dollars, as I have promised you?”
“If I have to lie for it, I’ll take the poverty and peace of mind.”
“I am sorry for you, Clarence, and I shall return and have another talk
with you some day. Perhaps you will change your mind. Good-bye.”
“I thank you, brother, for the word spoken just now. Yes, my brother, you
have a comfortable home and a family in society, and an innocent brother
in prison for ten years.”
“You have the habit of talking to yourself, have you?” It was Pat who
spoke.
“It helps a fellow, Pat, sometimes, when alone, to talk to himself.”
“I am sure I heard two voices in here. I was after looking for a convict
who occupied the next cell, 79, and I felt rather uneasy about you, and
I thought I would see what you were doing, and I heard a very strange
conversation in here.”
“Pat, did you hear all that was said?”
“Sure I did. What was I listening for if not to hear what was said?”
“And did you see anyone leave here?”
“Sure I did. When I see a man passing this way, I looked to find if he
was a broke-away.”
“And will you—”
“I will keep my mouth shut until I have to open it.”
“And would you tell all you heard?”
“Indade I would. Well, I think I will be going along. I will stroll by
the office and see if he looks any the better off since he could not get
rid of his five thousand dollars.”
“Pat, you always come just in time. Take this letter to the office. I
want it to go out on the first mail. If I wait for it to be taken up, it
would not get off on the first mail. Make haste, as I am quite anxious
for this to go.”
“You can depend on it going if I have to take the train and carry it
myself.”
To himself: “Well, I wonder what the rush was. I will pick up the torn
pieces when I get the chance, and see what this means.”
“Mr. Pearson,” said the superintendent, “I am called to attend to some
business affairs. I shall leave you in charge of the office. I may not
return until late.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Well, I just made the train. The next time I would like a few minutes to
think between this place and the train. I never went so fast in all my
life. I would be a good messenger. I could get the bad news to them in a
hurry, as all of the confounded things have bad news in them.
“There comes Pat. I will give him the order I left with Pearson.
“Pat, I am going on some business, and I want you to put all of those
torn pieces of paper in the fire and burn them up. I do not want anyone
to see them. I made some errors and re-wrote the letter,” said the
superintendent.
“Now you have gone,” said Pearson, “I will take care of those torn pieces
of paper. Here is an envelope addressed to the place where Clarence
committed the murder, and here is all of the letter. Now I’ll see what
was the cause for rush.”
The letter ran as follows:
“I am writing you for help in looking up the case of a convict by the
name of Clarence Pearson. I have every reason to believe that he is
innocent of the crime for which he is serving sentence. Wire me if you
have a name in the directory of your city like this: Devenart. If there
is such a man, hold him for murder.”
“My God!” gasped Pearson. “What does this mean? I am lost. I feel that
they will find him innocent, and I guilty of crime; and I have sworn to
the death of Clarence, so that I might receive his share of the estate.
Now it is all to come out.”
“Well,” said Pat, “I met the officer, and he told me to clean up around
and destroy the papers he has written on, and I don’t see any.”
“I had nothing to do and I put things in order,” said Pearson.
“Where did you throw the scraps?”
“I put them in the fire.”
“Did you lave the office to do it?”
“No, I did not leave the office.”
“Then where is the fire you put them in? I was told to burn them and I
must obey orders. If you did not burn them, I will be after doing it.”
“You are always meddling in someone’s affairs, Pat. You go along. I am
taking care of this place.”
“And I’m thinking you are taking care of some things in this place—at
least, I would like to see those torn pieces of paper.”
“You may go to No. 78’s cell and see if he wants to come here. I would
like to talk with him. Perhaps I can get some idea of the kind of work he
could do.”
“I will obey you. Now it is up to the poor convict to take his choice of
work. And if he plases to come, he can.”
To the prisoner: “Well, are you asleep? Would you like to take a walk
over to the office? Now, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“I am willing, Pat, to do anything I am asked to do.”
“You are very obliging. I’m sure I would be plased if all the convicts
would be as agreeable as you.”
“You may bring him in, Pat, and then go to your work. I shall not need
you any more at present,” said Pearson.
“I’ll go, but devil a bit will I work. I don’t think annyone needs me
now, and I’ll just sit down here until someone does need me.”
“Clarence, you have been thinking this over, have you—what we were
talking about? I hope you will be sensible now, and make up your mind to
do as I want you to.”
“You want me to swear that I am not Clarence Pearson?”
“Yes. You will be helping yourself by so doing.”
“Well, then, I will.”
“That will help you to look forward for something to live on ten years
from now.”
“Well, what can I do to help you out of your trouble?”
“My trouble? I am not in trouble.”
“You are not worried over my not doing as you requested me to do?”
“No. Only for your own good.”
“Then tell me, if I change my mind when the time comes to deny it, what
harm could it do you?”
“I should have to—”
“Finish what you were going to say.”
“I’ll tell you all, Clarence, if you will promise me that you will do as
I want you to.”
“Well, tell me, brother.”
“I am going to make a clean breast of it all.”
“I think I had better be getting up closer,” whispered Pat. “I may think
I’m hearing and not hear, for I am looking for the poor devil to tie a
noose around his neck before he gets through with the clean breast he
spoke of.”
“Go on, Oliver; tell me. You are talking to your brother. You need not
fear my betraying you—never, Oliver!”
“You left home, Clarence, when a small boy. You never wrote and poor
mother and I mourned you as dead. Years afterward mother died, and, not
knowing where you were, I was called upon to swear that you were dead,
and I did so. In that way I fell heir to all of the estate, which was
numbered in the hundred thousands. And, not knowing of your whereabouts,
I decided to invest it, and I lost it all, except what I have told you
of.”
“I do not see the point in your demanding that I deny my name.”
“Do you not see that I have sworn falsely to obtain the money, and you
know that places me just where you are to-day, Clarence.”
“Only you are guilty, Oliver, and I am not.”
[Illustration: “I BELAVE I’D BETTER NOT LISTEN ANNY MORE.”]
“I belave I’d better not listen anny more. I am knowing too much. I may
not be able to hold anny more in me head, for I have it crammed full
now, and I have got to keep it there till I can let it out, a little at
a time, and it takes a man a long time to tell the judge and keep from
telling what he don’t want to.”
“I know that I am guilty, but you can save me if you will.”
“Brother Oliver, I am sorry for you and I will do all I can for you. I
will do as you have asked me to do.”
“Thanks, dear brother. And I shall be a brother to you while you are in
prison.”
“Now I think they have all the secrets told, and I’ll walk around and see
if I can persuade the officer to tell me where the fire was. He was so
obliging to do my work for me,” mumbled Pat.
“Come along, Pat; you may take the fellow back,” called Mr. Pearson.
Pat to himself: “Oh! he is being called a ‘fellow,’ is he? If I bring
him here to the office many more times, he will be a gentleman, not a
convict.”
Aloud: “Come along here! Back to your resting-place. Indade, that is all
you have done lately—rest.”
The acting superintendent mused: “Now that Clarence is going to deny his
name, I can see my way out of this. I shall not take my vacation now. I
must stay and see this thing through. So my superior officer has written
to where the murder was committed and asked for a wire in answer. And we
may look for one to-morrow, as the letter went out on the early train. It
will be received in the morning, and a wire will be received some time in
the evening.”
“Well, ‘fellow,’ here is your place to rest till I come for you, and you
may look for me soon, at that,” remarked Pat as he placed the prisoner in
his cell.