oops. Then the voice came again and this time
its words were slow and deliberately spaced so as to give it time to
master whatever rocked it between whiles.

"Say--you--_humorist_" said the voice and here it rose sharply
into an undignified squawk of laughter, "You--innercent
child--comedian--you--Charlie--Chaplin--of the--hoosegow--you
_shut_ up--or I'll come down there and--bend--something--over--your
merry little face--_understand?_" "Yes sir," said Oliver subduedly.

"Ah right. Now go bye-bye--mama'll call you when she's ready to take you
walking" then explosively "I got to catch a train! Oh Holy Mike!"

Oliver left the window and went back toward his bunk, considerably
chastened. As he did so a bundle of second-hand clothes on the floor
rolled over and disclosed a red and unshaven face.

"Wup!" said Oliver--he had almost stepped on it.

"Wha'?" said the bundle, opening sick eyes.

"Oh nothing. I only said good morning."

"Wha'?"

"Good morning."

"Wha'?"

"Good morning."

After incredible difficulties, the bundle attained a sitting position.

"You kid'n me?" it demanded thickly, looking at Oliver with as much
surprise as if he had just grown up out of the floor like a plant.

"Oh no. No."

"You're _nah_ kid'n me?"

"No."

"Ah ri'. 'S countersign. Pass. Fren'."

It attempted a military gesture but succeeded merely in hitting its
mouth with its hand. It then looked at the hand as if the latter had
done it on purpose and became sunk in profound cogitation.

"Not feeling very well today?" Oliver ventured.

It looked at him.

"_Well?_" it said briefly. Then, after a silence devoted to trying to
find where its hands were.

"Hoosh."

"What?" said Oliver.

"_Hoosh_. Goo' hoosh. Gran' hoosh. Oh, _hoosh!_" and as if the mention
of the word had stricken it back into clothes again it slid slowly down
on its back, closed its eyes and began to snore.

Oliver, perched on his bunk for what comfort there was, sat and
considered. He looked at the bundle--the bars--the bars--the bundle. The
bundle wheezed apoplectically--no sound of footsteps came from beyond
the bars. Oliver wondered if Nancy loved him. He wondered if he would
ever catch that Ten Seven. But most of all he wondered why on earth he
had happened to get in here and how on earth he was ever going to get
out.

XX

The sky had been a blue steam all day, but at night it quieted, there
were faint airs. From the window of the apartm