y.

CHAPTER X

And above all things, next morning Warden Atherton came into my cell on
murder intent. With him were Captain Jamie, Doctor Jackson, Pie-Face
Jones, and Al Hutchins. Al Hutchins was serving a forty-years' sentence,
and was in hopes of being pardoned out. For four years he had been head
trusty of San Quentin. That this was a position of great power you will
realize when I tell you that the graft alone of the head trusty was
estimated at three thousand dollars a year. Wherefore Al Hutchins, in
possession of ten or twelve thousand dollars and of the promise of a
pardon, could be depended upon to do the Warden's bidding blind.

I have just said that Warden Atherton came into my cell intent on murder.
His face showed it. His actions proved it.

"Examine him," he ordered Doctor Jackson.

That wretched apology of a creature stripped from me my dirt-encrusted
shirt that I had worn since my entrance to solitary, and exposed my poor
wasted body, the skin ridged like brown parchment over the ribs and sore-
infested from the many bouts with the jacket. The examination was
shamelessly perfunctory.

"Will he stand it?" the Warden demanded.

"Yes," Doctor Jackson answered.

"How's the heart?"

"Splendid."

"You think he'll stand ten days of it, Doc.?"

"Sure."

"I don't believe it," the Warden announced savagely. "But we'll try it
just the same.--Lie down, Standing."

I obeyed, stretching myself face-downward on the flat-spread jacket. The
Warden seemed to debate with himself for a moment.

"Roll over," he commanded.

I made several efforts, but was too weak to succeed, and could only
sprawl and squirm in my helplessness.

"Putting it on," was Jackson's comment.

"Well, he won't have to put it on when I'm done with him," said the
Warden. "Lend him a hand. I can't waste any more time on him."

So they rolled me over on my back, where I stared up into Warden
Atherton's face.

"Standing," he said slowly, "I've given you all the rope I am going to. I
am sick and tired of your stubbornness. My patience is exhausted. Doctor
Jackson says you are in condition to stand ten days in the jacket. You
can figure your chances. But I am going to give you your last chance
now. Come across with the dynamite. The moment it is in my hands I'll
take you out of here. You can bathe and shave and get clean clothes.
I'll let you loaf for six months on hospital grub, and then I'll put you
trust