not tell, and with
bitter, anxious and doubtful thoughts pressing upon his mind, he left
his cell and walked in the direction of the little room where he knew
the conference was being held.

No sound of the conversation reached his ears, and with aching heart,
his mind filled with perplexing and agonizing doubts, he returned to
his cell, and throwing himself upon the bed, he gave himself up to
the dreadful thoughts that possessed him.

At length he heard the opening and closing of the door, and soon the
returning footsteps of Sommers sounded along the passage.

Bucholz hastened out, and at once communicated his fears to his
friend--that he had betrayed him.

Sommers received this outburst with dignified calmness of demeanor,
and finally turning upon his companion with a show of anger, he said:

"I did not think that you had such a small opinion of me. I have been
a friend to you all along, and it is not probable that I should
change my position towards you now, but if you think so, I cannot
help it."

Saying which, and with an injured air, Sommers left his friend, and
going at once to his own cell he shut the door forcibly behind him.

[Illustration: _The quarrel between William Bucholz and Edward
Sommers._]

This was the commencement of an estrangement which lasted several
days. These two men, formerly so intimate and friendly, avoided each
other so pointedly that it was observed by all the inmates of the
prison, and to none did it afford more gratification than to the
curious and suspicious Brown, whose black eyes now glittered with a
wicked satisfaction as he noticed the coolness that existed between
the two men whose previous friendliness had occasioned him so much
concern.

He immediately began to make advances toward Bucholz, with, however,
but little success. William repelled his attempts at friendliness,
and seemed to be sorrowful and despondent. He missed the
companionship of Sommers. He felt convinced that he had accused him
unjustly, and the only man he cared for among the many by whom he was
surrounded held himself aloof from him, and he had no disposition to
make new friends.

Three days elapsed, during which no communication took place between
them, and this continued silence proved too much for William Bucholz.
He missed the companionship that had whiled away so many weary hours,
and unable to endure any longer the anger of his friend, he sat down
and indited a letter to Sommers, apologizin