“Gertie, I will not allow you to compare yourself and your sister with what could happen. I am like daughter Amelia. I am not going to forgive him—no, not I. I shall return to my home and feel very uncomfortable in it, after knowing how it was obtained. Come, my daughters.”

“I shall return, papa,” said Gertie, “and see you. I shall always love you, for you have been a good father to me. You gave me my education and provided instruction in music. No one can take that away from me. I shall always remember you and love you and I shall do all that I can for you in times to come. Good-bye, dear papa. Do not weep. Mother and sister can never turn my love from you. If I ever can redeem your good name for you, I shall be repaid for all, and I hope and pray that I shall be able to do so.”

“Gertie, you have said enough to your convict father. Come at once. We must leave this[171] horrid place, never to return. Come, come, daughters.”

Addressing her husband, the wife said: “You got in this trouble without your family’s assistance, and you can get out the same way.”

“Oh, mother! do not talk so cruelly to papa. I know his heart is broken. I am sure that he believed himself right when he made the statement that his brother was dead. He did not dream that his brother was alive, or that he would ever hear of him again.”

“Gertie, go along with your mother. I will suffer alone.”

“I will share it with you, papa. Good-bye.”

“Mr. Pearson, I shall place you in the second room here, and I shall call in the officials for consultation and see what can be done. I regret very much to have to do so, but it is my duty.”

“I am a prisoner here, and shall obey your rules. I will step inside. You may take me in. I shall not cause you any unnecessary trouble.”

“Well, I have got a job, to turn the key on the gentleman. I’ll just step in. I feel I have saved meself a good many steps by finding meself a resting-place so near.” It was Pat, talking to himself.

“I was just turning to call for you, Pat.”

[172]

“Well, I am here.”

“You may see that water is in the room for Pearson, then lock the door.”

“I will do that, your honor, with pleasure. Where is the man to occupy the room?”

“He has stepped in there, Pat.”

“Very obliging, he is. I think that bating did him some good.

“Here is some water for you, sir, and if you want annything, call me. Or have I given you all you wanted me to—faith, I mane in the way of a bating?

“The poor fellow sits there with his head down as though I had never said a word to him, so I’ll lock him in and let him slape it off.”

“Pat, I am going to call in the high officials to-day, and I want you to be present; I am going to call on you for some of your knowledge.”

“How in the devil do you know where my knowledge-place is? You may have it all and I will find me another resting-place.”

“Pat, you do not understand me. I meant that you must tell what you know about this Pearson and his brother. Explain what you mean by giving me all the place of knowledge.”

“Well, your honor, you see I have been wanted here and there so manny times I found[173] meself a resting-place outside of this office, so I could be here when you wanted me—and when you didn’t want me.”

“Do you call that a ‘knowledge-place’? I should call it a ‘resting-place.’”

“I rested while I was getting my knowledge.”

“You were reading, were you?”

“Devil a bit did I read.”

“How, then, did you get your knowledge?”

“Well, if you have things that you try to keep from hearing—and indade I tried to keep from hearing the poor family crying, I was dropping a few tears meself—then—”

“You heard the conversation, did you?”

“I don’t know if that is what you call it, but I don’t care to hear anny more of it; the last toime I felt the way I did was when the only friend I ever had died, and that was me dog. I never had a poor father or mother—if I did, they never told me about it; but one kind lady told the good woman that raised me I was too small to know me father and mother, so I don’t know anny, and if I had anny—God bless ’em!—their son never had to swear all the children was dead to get what the old folks left.”

“Pat, you have heard all about this, have you?”

[174]

“I don’t know what ‘this’ is. You mane have I heard something about this poor man’s troubles?”

“Here are the officials, now. You may go. I shall send for you.”

“I am glad I can go. I am not going to meet the high officials. They might be so high I couldn’t make meself heard. I’ll just sit meself down.”

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning.” “Good morning.”

“Why have we been called?”

“Mr. McHenry, there has been trouble here in regard to one of the prisoners who is a very poor man. Strange things have happened since he has been in the prison, and the strangest part of all is that he is a brother of Officer Pearson.”

“A brother of Officer Pearson?”

“The man was convicted of murder on circumstantial evidence.”

“Of murder—a brother of Officer Pearson!”

“Yes. I’ll explain further. I have a telegram here, stating that the real murderer has confessed.”

“Well, I am glad. I hope that his brother[175] is not a murderer. I have a high regard for Officer Pearson.”

“Gentlemen, the worst is yet to come. Mr. Pearson is himself under lock and key.”

“I dare say you are telling the truth.”

“I am, sir. He was heard trying to bribe his brother to swear falsely—to deny his own name.”

“Pray, what was that for?”

“I regret to say that he has swindled his brother out of his part of the estate by swearing the brother was dead. By doing this, Mr. Pearson fell heir to the entire estate, which was large, and he lost it all, except the home which his family now occupies.”

“The poor man! What was the amount?”

“In the hundreds of thousands.”

“Well, well! How sorry I am to hear that about Mr. Pearson!”

“You have not heard all yet about Mr. Pearson. I am going to explain it all. He threatened to kill his brother if he did not swear that he had been registered under an assumed name. In that way Pearson hoped not to be recognized as the convict’s brother.”

“You are relating something that can be verified, are you?”

[176]

“I am.”

“Where did you get your information?”

“I have a very trustworthy guard that overheard some things.”

“You are not believing all these things from hearsay, are you?”

“I have heard enough myself to be convinced that Mr. Pearson is guilty.”

“Call Mr. Pearson in.”

“Well, here is where I bring in the fellow with the black eye. I’ll just step to the door, by accident,” said Pat, outside.

“Pat, step in and show Mr. Pearson in.”

“I will, your honor.”

“Oh! you have him in there, have you, locked up?”

“I believe I mentioned the fact that I had him under lock and key.”

“My god, man, what have you done to this poor man?”

“Mr. Pearson, I am sorry to see this.”

Pat muttered in a low voice: “You would be doing a good turn if you would go to the poor wife and give some sympathy to those beautiful daughters. They have never stole annything and threatened to kill afterwards if the one they robbed hollered about it. I have[177] given him a good bating, and I think it did him good, but I never want the ladies to come here again and do anny more crying. I had to drop a tear meself.”

“Officer, what does this mean? Did you allow that Irishman to ............