* *

In the Tombs, when Joe was brought out to me, I saw that he, too, had
been through a deep change. He had been quiet enough all through the
strike, except for that one big speech of his--but he had been _tensely_
quiet. Now the tension appeared to be gone. He seemed wrapped up in
thoughts of his own.

"Have you seen Sue?" he asked me at once.

"Yes Joe, I've just been with her."

"What did she say?"

I began to tell him.

"I knew it," he interrupted me. "I made up my mind to this the first
night I spent here in my cell. It couldn't have happened, it wouldn't
have worked. Tell her I understand all about it, tell her that I'm sure
she's right. Tell her--it's funny but it's true--tell her this infernal
pen has worked the same way on me as on her. I mean it has made me not
want her now. I feel sorry for her and that's all--deeply and infernally
sorry. I was a fool to have let her into it. My only excuse for being so
blind was that damned fever that left me so weak. At any other time I
would have seen what a farce it was. I wasn't booked for a life like
that. It doesn't fit in with this job of mine." He smiled a little
bitterly. "I used to say," he continued, "that if I had time I'd like to
do something yellow enough so that I'd be cut off for life from any
chance of church bells. And I guess I've done it this time--no danger
of getting respectable now."

"How do you look at this, Joe?" I asked him. "What do you think they'll
do to you?"

"I don't know." Again he smiled slightly and wearily. "And I can't say I
_care_ a damn. I feel like those fellows over in Russia, the
revolutionist chaps I met, who didn't know if they'd croak in a month
and didn't care one way or the other. But as a matter of fact," he
added, "I think this time it's mainly bluff. They wanted to get us away
from the crowd and keep us away while they broke the strike. Now that
it's over you'll probably find they'll let us all off with light
sentences. Of course the murder charge can't hold.... By the way," he
added, smiling, "I hear they got you, too."

"Yes," I answered, smiling back. "The Judge fined me ten dollars and let
me go. He said he hoped this would be a lesson."

Joe looked at me curiously:

"How much of a lesson, Kid, do you think this strike has been to you?"

"Quite a big one, Joe," I said.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't decided."

"How is Eleanore taking it all?"

"She's not saying much