my palm, and I looked my
intention at the woman. She knew I had something for her; she must
have been expecting it, and had set herself to divining, at the moment
we entered, which of us was the messenger. But one of the matrons
stood within two feet of her. Already the hall-men were picking up the
bundles they were to carry away. The moment was passing. I delayed
with my bundle, making believe that it was not tied securely. Would
that matron ever look away? Or was I to fail? And just then another
woman cut up playfully with one of the hall-men--stuck out her foot
and tripped him, or pinched him, or did something or other. The matron
looked that way and reprimanded the woman sharply. Now I do not know
whether or not this was all planned to distract the matron's
attention, but I did know that it was my opportunity. My particular
woman's hand dropped from her lap down by her side. I stooped to pick
up my bundle. From my stooping position I slipped the letter into her
hand, and received another in exchange. The next moment the bundle
was on my shoulder, the matron's gaze had returned to me because I was
the last hall-man, and I was hastening to catch up with my companions.
The letter I had received from the woman I turned over to the fireman,
and thence it passed through the hands of the barber, of the convict
who had smuggled in my things, and on to the long-timer at the other
end.

Often we conveyed letters, the chain of communication of which was so
complex that we knew neither sender nor sendee. We were but links in
the chain. Somewhere, somehow, a convict would thrust a letter into my
hand with the instruction to pass it on to the next link. All such
acts were favors to be reciprocated later on, when I should be acting
directly with a principal in transmitting letters, and from whom I
should be receiving my pay. The whole prison was covered by a network
of lines of communication. And we who were in control of the system of
communication, naturally, since we were modelled after capitalistic
society, exacted heavy tolls from our customers. It was service for
profit with a vengeance, though we were at times not above giving
service for love.

And all the time I was in the Pen I was making myself solid with my
pal. He had done much for me, and in return he expected me to do as
much for him. When we got out, we were to travel together, and, it
goes without saying, pull off "jobs" together. For my pal was a
criminal--oh