last night, I could hardly bear to let them go. They came up to
the entrance of my cell very quietly so as not to attract attention, and I
was taken almost by surprise when I heard their voices. I had rather
expected a visit from the Warden this evening, but knew nothing for
certain.

"Well, how are you coming on?" is the first question.

"Fine!"

"How are you feeling?"

"First rate!"

"How do you like your job?"

"Couldn't ask anything better."

"How do the men treat you?"

"As fine a lot of fellows as I was ever thrown with."

The Warden and Grant stifle their laughter.

"Well," I remark, "I suppose it does sound rather funny, but I mean it. I
wouldn't ask for any better treatment than I'm getting. The men are
certainly acting like gentlemen. They are doing just what I asked of
them--treating me exactly like one of themselves; and as for my partner,
Murphy, we're the very best of friends. He's a fine fellow. But look
here," I continue, "I'm making no kick, and I'm perfectly satisfied where
I am; but what was the reason for the change of plan? Why didn't the P. K.
put me where we had decided? When shall I be placed with that tough
bunch?"

This time my two visitors cannot control their amusement; they laugh
loudly.

"Why," says the Warden, as soon as he can catch his breath, "you are with
the tough bunch!"

"Oh, come off! you know what I mean, the Idle Company that I was to be
placed with for the first day or two."

"You're with the Idle Company," explains the Warden; "only they're not
idle any longer, they've been put to work. It is the same one where we
planned for you to begin."

I was never more surprised; but in order to turn the joke on them I assume
the toughest manner at my disposal and say, "Gee! Did you think I wasn't
wise? I was only kiddin' youse guys! But take this from me--straight. If
we're the toughest bunch in this stir the other guys must be skypilots,
all right!"

"Well, he seems to be getting some of the lingo down pretty fine," is
Grant's quiet comment; and then we turn seriously to the events of the
day, to my health and other matters. The Warden describes his visit to the
shop with the newspaper men, and the failure of all concerned, including
himself, to recognize me.

I tell him that it is quite evident that the prison atmosphere has been
successful in disguising my individuality, at least so far as appearance
is concerned. Then, after some more serious talk, we reach an