f confinement, as he, the sheriff, wished
might at once be the case with John Doe, the man who was awaiting trial
for passing bad bank-notes. All this the sheriff said as he walked with
Mr. Morton from the post-office to the jail. Arrived at the last-named
building, the sheriff instructed his deputy, who had charge of the
place, to admit Mr. Morton at any time that gentleman might care to
converse with any of the prisoners.

The teacher walked first through the upper rooms, where a small but
choice assortment of habitual drunkards and petty thieves were confined;
these, as Sam Wardwell's father had predicted, either declined to
converse or talked stupidly for a moment or two, and then begged either
tobacco or money to buy it with. Still, Mr. Morton thought he saw in
these wretched fellows some material to work upon, when time allowed.
Then he went below, and the deputy took him to the small grated window
in the door of the strong cell for desperate offenders, and said to John
Doe that a gentleman who was visiting the prisoners would like to speak
with him. The deputy went away immediately after saying this, and Mr.
Morton quickly put his face to the grated window, a face appeared on the
other side of the grating, and then, as Mr. Morton placed his hand
between the bars, which were barely wide enough apart to admit it, he
felt his fingers grasped most earnestly by the hand of the prisoner. If
Mr. Wardwell could have felt that grasp and seen the prisoner's face, he
might have greatly changed his opinion of smart prisoners in general.

Somehow John Doe preferred to restrict his remarks to whispers, and for
some reason Mr. Morton humored him. The interview lasted but a few
moments, and ended with a plea and a promise that another call should be
made. Meanwhile, Mr. Wardwell had stood on a corner that commanded the
jail, and when the teacher re-appeared the merchant asked, "Well?"

"They are a sad set," Mr. Morton admitted.

"I told you so," said Wardwell, rubbing his hands as if he were glad
rather than sorry that the prisoners were as bad as he had thought them.
"And how did you find that rascally counterfeiter? I'll warrant he
didn't care to see you?"

"On the contrary," replied the teacher, gravely, "he was very glad to
see me. He begged me to come again. He was so glad to see some one not a
jailer that he cried."

"Well, I never!" exclaimed the merchant. And he told the truth.

It was soon after this first visit