d seemingly extravagant stories are related, which fill
the listener with incredulity, but which, upon inquiry, are usually
found to be but truthful relations of actual occurrences.

But in this jail at Bridgeport there was one person, who, upon
finding himself a prisoner, held himself aloof from the rest,
declining to make any acquaintances or to engender any friendships,
and this person was the quiet-looking man who had been arrested by
the express company, and whose name was ascertained to be Edward
Sommers. He studiously avoided his fellow-prisoners and maintained a
degree of reserve which repelled their advances and at once induced
their respect.

Thomas Brown, the black-haired, false pretender, however, immediately
placed himself on friendly terms with every one within reach, and his
merry stories were fully appreciated by the residents of the
correctional institution in which they found themselves thrown
together.

But how fared William Bucholz during the days that had intervened
since his incarceration? His mind, it is true, had grown calmer since
the first paroxysm of his grief had spent itself, and he had composed
himself sufficiently to look the future hopefully in the face. As day
after day was passed in the seclusion of his cell, he had grown
reconciled to a certain extent to the existing state of affairs, but
he still looked forward anxiously to the day which was to deliver him
from the enclosing walls that restrained him of his liberty.

He was moody and silent, and his mind was much disturbed. His waking
thoughts were ever busy with the weighty and depressing consideration
of his position and of the fate that hung over him like a pall. Hour
after hour he would pace the corridors, seeking no companionship and
taking no pleasure in the mirth-provoking actions of those who
surrounded him, or in any of the events that transpired within the
jail.

Mechanically he would walk backward and forward, apparently in deep
and dejected thoughtfulness, and when the time came for the keepers
to lock him up again he would yield a ready but listless obedience,
and spend the remainder of the time in reading and profound
meditation.

He appeared to have no visitors except his counsel and a few friends
from South Norwalk. But his attorneys would invariably exercise a
cheering influence upon him, and their visits were always looked
forward to with pleasure.

Under their ministrations Bucholz seemed to have buoyed hi