lve and deposited the carved oar in the Philadelphia Museum.

It is a difficult matter for a prisoner in solitary to communicate with
the outside world. Once, with a guard, and once with a short-timer in
solitary, I entrusted, by memorization, a letter of inquiry addressed to
the curator of the Museum. Although under the most solemn pledges, both
these men failed me. It was not until after Ed Morrell, by a strange
whirl of fate, was released from solitary and appointed head trusty of
the entire prison, that I was able to have the letter sent. I now give
the reply, sent me by the curator of the Philadelphia Museum, and
smuggled to me by Ed Morrell:

* * * * *

"It is true there is such an oar here as you have described. But few
persons can know of it, for it is not on exhibition in the public rooms.
In fact, and I have held this position for eighteen years, I was unaware
of its existence myself.

"But upon consulting our old records I found that such an oar had been
presented by one Daniel Foss, of Elkton, Maryland, in the year 1821. Not
until after a long search did we find the oar in a disused attic lumber-
room of odds and ends. The notches and the legend are carved on the oar
just as you have described.

"We have also on file a pamphlet presented at the same time, written by
the said Daniel Foss, and published in Boston by the firm of N. Coverly,
Jr., in the year 1834. This pamphlet describes eight years of a
castaway's life on a desert island. It is evident that this mariner, in
his old age and in want, hawked this pamphlet about among the charitable.

"I am very curious to learn how you became aware of this oar, of the
existence of which we of the museum were ignorant. Am I correct in
assuming that you have read an account in some diary published later by
this Daniel Foss? I shall be glad for any information on the subject,
and am proceeding at once to have the oar and the pamphlet put back on
exhibition.

"Very truly yours,

"HOSEA SALSBURTY." {1}

CHAPTER XX

The time came when I humbled Warden Atherton to unconditional surrender,
making a vain and empty mouthing of his ultimatum, "Dynamite or
curtains." He gave me up as one who could not be killed in a
strait-jacket. He had had men die after several hours in the jacket. He
had had men die after several days in the jacket, although, invariably,
they were unlaced and carted into hospital ere they breathed their last
. . . and rec