The prison is about a mile back there at the foot
of that hill."

"I--like those squeals," I answered to his smile as I put my Cherry
against the spring wind and raced down that long road at a great speed
that prevented any more conversation at that moment. My pride bade me
show to that Gouverneur of Harpeth what good driving in a fine car I
was able to accomplish.

Therefore it was not many minutes before we stood within the doors of
that very grim and terrible home of the human beings who have sinned
with a great crime. I know that I am never to forget that hour and am
to carry forever the wound that it inflicted upon my heart as I walked
through the dimness and grayness and stillness of that dark house.

At last, with many unlockings of heavy doors by the director of that
prison, we stood in a room that was as a cage in which to keep the
human animal that crouched down upon a hard bed in one of its corners
and leaned a head shaved bare of any hair upon a very thin and white
hand.

"Leave me, Superintendent, for a few minutes. The young man will stay
by the door to let you know when I want you," said that Gouverneur
Faulkner to the superintendent, who nodded and left the room as I took
a position over beside the heavy iron bars that swung together after
him.

"My man," said the Gouverneur Faulkner in a voice that was so gentle
as that which a mother uses to a child in severe illness, "I want you
to let me sit down on your cot beside you and talk to you about your
trouble."

"Got nothing to say, parson. I done it and I want to swing as quick as
the law sends me," answered the poor human from behind his hands
without even raising his bowed head.

"I am not a minister, and I've come to talk to you because some of
your neighbors and friends think that there may be a reason why you
should not be hanged for the death of your brother. It is my duty to
help them keep you from the penalty of the law, which you may not
deserve even if you desire it. Can you tell me your story as man to
man, with the hope that it will help you to a reprieve?" And as he
spoke I observed a tone of command come into the voice of my
Gouverneur Faulkner, that was as clear and beautiful as the call of
the bugle to men for a battle.

"I done what I had to and I'm ready to die for it. I've got nothing to
say," answered the man with still more of the determination of misery
in his voice. "My neighbors don't know nothing about it and I don't