as the two entered the office the superintendent exclaimed: “you are slow about getting here. i believe mr. pearson is dead.”

“i hope not,” replied the doctor; “but i will see in a moment.” then: “pulsation very weak. did he complain of feeling ill before he collapsed?”

“no, doctor; only some excitement and—”

“he seems to have been affected very deeply from it. i am alarmed.”

“do you think that we should send for more help?”

“i am not of the opinion that they could do any more than i am doing.”

“you are going to need the stretcher.”

“to the 78 cell, doctor! and a stretcher to carry out the dead live ones!”

“pat, step inside and see what is the matter with no. 78. i hear a noise.”

“i am going to have the club ready. i am not feeling very good, and i don’t think it would take much to get me—bated.”

[120]

“now, doctor, i have a secret to tell you. i have been mistrusting a convict’s relationship to an employee of this office, and i have asked him for a complete explanation of the affair. i understand that he has shown some favors to the convict in my absence. and i can not, for the life of me, explain what the voices are that we hear in this office, at times, pertaining to this officer. he and i were here talking the matter over, and i asked him if he did not know this man was his brother. he said that he did not. at that moment we heard a voice, ‘i will show you!’ and a terrible scream came from him, and as he looked up he called his mother three times for help, and fell as you see him.”

“i have witnessed many fainting spells, but never did i find the pulse in such a condition.”

“officer,” came the voice of pat, “i am having a picnic, hearing the prisoner talk in his sleep, and with his eyes open. would you mind coming in and getting some of the news?”

“you may go,” said the doctor; “i will take care of the patient. there is nothing that you can do.”

“very well, i will see what is wrong.

[121]

“well, pat, you seem to be having a free entertainment.”

“you will have to name it. i call it a treat to see a fellow talk asleep and standing, with his eyes open all the time he is sleeping.”

“what is he talking about?”

“listen, for yourself. he is going on so fast i can’t run and keep up.”

“i am telling you i am innocent. i did not murder, and i am not guilty, and my brother who was in a faint is all right now, and i am the spirit of the mother of those two boys—my sons, and i have been the mysterious one whose voice you have heard here trying to tell you and help my son out of this trouble. i have to explain this by inspiring my son, as i am doing now, and i can do so, as you see. and i have brought the woman who was murdered with me, and she is here to say that she was strangled to death by her husband, not by my son. my son is not guilty of that crime, and i want you to take this name and address which she will give me, and send for the real murderer. his name is robert devenart, and mrs. devenart is here to tell you all about the crime, and i will repeat the words after her:

“‘i was strangled to death, not by this man here, but by my husband. i will tell all. i was[122] having trouble with him and as he threatened me i screamed, and the door opened, and this man, whom i knew slightly, entered and asked if he could be of any assistance. i tried to be brave, and told him that i did not need any assistance. he left, with an apology for intruding. then my husband clutched me by the throat and choked me to death. turn this man out and bring the real murderer in. your officer is all right. i will go now.’”

“very well, doctor.”

“do you feel all right, pearson?”

“i am all right. i’ll just step out for some fresh air.”

“i am not satisfied to think that he was in a faint, officer. i have never come in contact with anything like it in my whole experience as a physician. you had hardly left the room until he opened his eyes and looked around.”

“had it not been for the fact that i might have missed some of the words that were being spoken, i should have called you, doctor. i stepped into the room, and there he—the prisoner, i mean—was standing, talking, his eyes open and apparently he was himself. i inquired of pat what was wrong, and he—the prisoner—answered by saying, ‘i am not guilty.’[123] the murderer’s name was given, and many more things were said, which i dare not mention now.”

“here is pat.”

“well, give me my time. i am a brave irishman, i can bate a fellow to death if need be, but i am not brave enough, when the dead come around and talk to me, to stick around any longer. faith, i did not see anything, but i surely heard, and i know that i will fall dead if i ever see one of the dead ones walking around here.”

“pat, i can not give you your time. you are needed here. go along and do your duty, and i will send for you if you are wanted.”

“i hope you will never send for me if the dead want me.”

“pat is a good, trusty fellow, and, doctor, i am glad i can make a confidant of you in this matter. i am given the address of a person. i am going to write at once to the proper authorities and see if they can find the name, a very strange name. i never heard it before. i don’t think they can get the wrong fellow if they find one by that name.”

“i would advise you to investigate, officer. people are oftentimes innocent, although apparently[124] proved guilty by law, and i am prejudiced against circumstantial evidence. many poor men are serving time because of that kind of evidence.”

“i am going to thank you—”

“did you speak? did you?”

“no, doctor. you have heard some of that voice which we hear so often. can you explain?”

“no, sir; and i do not intend to stay in here to hear any more of it, or to try to explain it. good-bye.”

“good-bye, doctor.”

“i am going to ask you to allow me a vacation, officer. i am not feeling very well.”

“mr. pearson, i have some very important work to do in the next few days, and i shall need you badly.”

“i should like to leave by the first of the week, if possible.”

“it is more than likely that you can do so. you have nothing more to say in regard to the affair of which we were talking?”

“i have not. i do not feel that this man is any relation to me, therefore i am not going to bother anything about him.”

“what was your birth-place, pearson?”

“i have secrets of my own. i don’t think[125] that you or anyone should ask about them, and i refuse to tell you. i am not being tried for any crime. i do not have to answer your questions.”

“very well. you may go back to your old position. i shall look after the office. say, pearson! here! you may take along the prisoner here. i don’t care to have him in this room, keeping me alert at every noise.”

to the prisoner pearson said: “come. i will put you in your cell.”

“i am willing to go—to do anything that you request me to do.”

“clarence—did i understand you to say that was your name?”

“yes, sir.”

“here is your cell. step in. i will also go in. i want to talk to you. clarence, do you remember anything about your old home, and your brothers and sisters, and your father and mother?”

“i have no father—he died when i was a small boy, and sisters i have none. i have one brother.”

“what was your father’s name? of course, i know it was pearson, but what was his christian name—or have you forgotten it?”

“i have not forgotten anything about my home. i remember all very well. it seems only yesterday, i have such a vivid recollection of all. my brother’s name was william o. pearson.”

“what was the o. for?”

“for oliver, and i often called him by that name. you have such a strange way of looking at me, officer. do you not believe me?”

“yes, clarence, i believe you. i am going to tell you why i look at you so strangely. you are my brother, and i am going to make this right with you, if you will change your story and say that you changed your name when you got into this trouble—or, rather, that you have gone under an assumed name since you committed this crime. if you will do as i say, at the end of your term, i will give you five thousand dollars—when you walk out of this place a free man.”

“i do not want your money.”