t know how to behave? Won't they quarrel
and fight and try to escape?"

"But don't you see, Tom, that they couldn't do that without putting the
whole thing on the bum, and depriving the rest of us of our privileges?
You needn't be afraid we couldn't handle those fellows all right. Or why
not let out only those men who have a good conduct bar? That's it," he
continues, enthusiastically warming up to his subject, "that's it, Tom, a
Good Conduct League. And give the privilege of Sunday afternoons to the
members of the league. I'll tell you, Tom! you know last year we got up an
Anti-swearing League here in this shop, and we had a penalty for every
oath or dirty word. The forfeits were paid with matches. You know matches
are pretty scarce here, don't you? Well, we had a grand success with that
league. But this Good Conduct League would be a much bigger thing. It
would be just great. And go! sure it'll go."

"Well, Jack, perhaps you've hit the right nail on the head. We'll think it
over, and talk more about it to-morrow."

Thus I close the conversation, wishing time to consider Jack's suggestion
before we continue discussing a subject so big with possibilities. Sunday
afternoon may be the key to the whole situation, and Jack may have found
the key to the question of Sunday afternoon.

Toward the end of the day, when we have finished our work and Jack is
sweeping up, I first read all the newspapers which have floated in my
direction, and then take a long walk in stretches of ten feet or so. Our
talk has given me much to think about. Jack, after finishing his sweeping,
also walks, but in a different direction; for there is a strict rule that
no two convicts may walk together. I manage at times to stretch my course
a little, on one side or another, and whisper a word or two to some of the
other prisoners. My remarks are always greeted with a ready smile and a
pleasant gleam of the eye--even in the case of a poor fellow whose face
shows that he is lacking in ordinary intelligence.

Closing time comes. "Good night, Jack!" "Good night, Tom!" (I got ahead of
my partner this time.) We form in line; the old men and cripples start off
first; the rest of us march up the steps and along the tracks; then after
pausing at the bucket stands, swing up the yard to the main building;
where I seize my bread, clamber up the iron steps; pass a whispered word
or two to some of my special friends as we separate for the night; take my
tin cup of