nder good control. However, Vaniman
did manage to control his tongue.

After the silence had continued for some time, the guard slipped down
from the stool and marched to and fro with his rifle in the hook of his
arm, affording a fine display of attention to duty.

After he had returned to his stool, Wagg gave the ex-cashier plenty of
time to take up the topic. "Considering my position in this place, I
reckon I've said about enough," suggested the guard.

"I think you have said enough!" returned Vaniman, grimly.

"What have you to say?"

"I didn't take that money from the Egypt Trust Company. I don't know
where it is. I never knew where it went. And I'm getting infernally sick
of having it everlastingly thrown up at me."

"I thought I had you sized up better--but I see I was wrong," admitted
Wagg.

"Of course you're wrong! You and the chaplain and the warden and the
jury! I didn't take that money!"

"I didn't mean I was wrong on that point," proceeded Wagg,
remorselessly. "But I had watched you bang around your cell and I
concluded that you was ready to make about a fifty-fifty split of
the swag with the chap who could get you out of here. If you're still
stuffy, you'll have to stay that way--and stay in here, too!"

He took another promenade, pursuing his regular policy of starting the
fire and letting the kettle come aboil on its own hook.

"What good would it do me to escape from this prison--to be hounded and
hunted from one end of the world to the other?" Vaniman demanded, when
Wagg had returned to the stool. "I do want to get out. But I want to get
out right! I have a job to do for myself when I'm out of here!" Mr. Wagg
nodded understandingly. "And that job is right in the same town where I
have been living."

"Exactly!" agreed the guard. "And speaking of a job, you don't think for
one moment, do you, that I'd be earning a fifty-fifty split by boosting
you over that wall or smuggling you out of the gate to shift for
yourself? Small wonder that you got hot, thinking I meant it that way.
My plan will put you out right! My plan is a prime plan that can be
worked only once. Therefore, it's worth money."

"Damn it, I haven't the money!" Vaniman, exasperated by this
pertinacity, was not able to control his feelings or his language.

"It's too bad you are still at the point where you _think_ you haven't
got it," returned Mr. Wagg. "I'm a terrible good waiter. Reckon I have
showed that kind of a dispositio