aced me tightly, and gave me a hundred hours. Once each
twenty-four hours I was permitted a drink of water. I had no desire for
food, nor was food offered me. Toward the end of the hundred hours
Jackson, the prison doctor, examined my physical condition several times.

But I had grown too used to the jacket during my incorrigible days to let
a single jacketing injure me. Naturally, it weakened me, took the life
out of me; but I had learned muscular tricks for stealing a little space
while they were lacing me. At the end of the first hundred hours' bout I
was worn and tired, but that was all. Another bout of this duration they
gave me, after a day and a night to recuperate. And then they gave one
hundred and fifty hours. Much of this time I was physically numb and
mentally delirious. Also, by an effort of will, I managed to sleep away
long hours.

Next, Warden Atherton tried a variation. I was given irregular intervals
of jacket and recuperation. I never knew when I was to go into the
jacket. Thus I would have ten hours' recuperation, and do twenty in the
jacket; or I would receive only four hours' rest. At the most unexpected
hours of the night my door would clang open and the changing guards would
lace me. Sometimes rhythms were instituted. Thus, for three days and
nights I alternated eight hours in the jacket and eight hours out. And
then, just as I was growing accustomed to this rhythm, it was suddenly
altered and I was given two days and nights straight.

And ever the eternal question was propounded to me: Where was the
dynamite? Sometimes Warden Atherton was furious with me. On occasion,
when I had endured an extra severe jacketing, he almost pleaded with me
to confess. Once he even promised me three months in the hospital of
absolute rest and good food, and then the trusty job in the library.

Dr. Jackson, a weak stick of a creature with a smattering of medicine,
grew sceptical. He insisted that jacketing, no matter how prolonged,
could never kill me; and his insistence was a challenge to the Warden to
continue the attempt.

"These lean college guys 'd fool the devil," he grumbled. "They're
tougher 'n raw-hide. Just the same we'll wear him down. Standing, you
hear me. What you've got ain't a caution to what you're going to get.
You might as well come across now and save trouble. I'm a man of my
word. You've heard me say dynamite or curtains. Well, that stands. Take
your choice."