Such
money never does one any good."

Having imparted this information he bade me good night and went over to
another part of the ward, where he took his place beside the cot of a
dying convict.

CHAPTER XI. CANDIDATE FOR THE STATE SENATE

The author of this book has been guilty of a great many bad breaks
during the course of his earthly pilgrimage up to the present date.
Making the race for State senator from the Atchison district while an
inmate of the Kansas penitentiary, actually an occupant of a felon's
cell, and robed in the livery of disgrace, probably eclipsed anything
that maybe charged to my account in the past.

One Sunday afternoon, after the usual exercises of the day were over,
I was sitting in my little 4x7 of stone. The outside world was in
convulsions over the presidential campaign. There were no convulsions,
however, where I was. It was painfully quiet. Everywhere, all over the
broad land, except behind prison walls, politics was the all-absorbing
topic. As I sat there in my solitude the question came to my mind as
to what part of the great political play I would be engaged in were I
a free man. Some months prior to this a petition signed by 5,000 people
had been forwarded to President Cleveland for my pardon. Had I secured
my liberty it was my intention to make the race for State senator in
my district for vindication. Mr. Cleveland interfered with my plan by
refusing my pardon.

Thinking over the matter in my cell that Sunday afternoon, I determined
that while the President had the power of keeping me in prison he should
not keep me from making the race for the position I coveted. Immediate
action followed my decision. Within thirty minutes I had written a
letter for publication, stating my intention of becoming an independent
candidate. But how was I to get this letter out of the prison and into
the newspapers of my district.

It is expected of the convict that during Sunday afternoon he will sit
quietly in his cell and meditate about his past misdeeds. I would be
dishonest if I did not state that my thoughts were now more taken up
with the probable outcome of the course I had adopted than of lamenting
over my past shortcomings. I reasoned that I was not only pursuing an
original, but a safe course. Original, in that no one, so far as my
knowledge extended, had ever made the race for office while a convict;
safe, in that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I will
frankly confes