The balance of my short stay in this prison was taken up by my reading “Les Misérables,” a peculiarly interesting volume to me under the circumstances, and I judge it was to all prisoners who cared for reading, as was evidenced by the condition of the book itself, which I obtained from the prison library. I was also entertained by watching a huge negro being prepared to meet his death by hanging, by having alternately administered to him spiritual consolation from his confessors, large quantities of cigars to smoke, food to eat and liquor or beer to drink. A so-called death watch was kept also, but not so stringent but that he was allowed to go alone to the front of the compartments occupied by his favorite companions, and talk at some length with them. Next morning, upon looking from my latticed window across into the court yard, I saw him meet his death upon the gallows in the presence of a large and morbidly curious crowd of people. If I had been in need of any warning to deter me from almost immediately placing myself in a similar position, I know of no stronger one that I could have received than to witness this man’s death struggles, to see the crowd making light of it, and almost before he was dead quarreling to possess small portions of the rope which sent his soul hence, and, I think, of his clothes. Gruesome relics they were, indeed. Upon the day I was liberated from this place of confinement, I visited first my own attorney and later Blank & Blank, in the same street, at which time the following conversation took place. Entering the office, and having explained who I was, I said:— “I have called on you to perhaps make some arrangements that will aid in securing the liberty of your client,” to which one of the firm to whom I spoke, replied, “I guess you have made a mistake in the office; I know nothing in regard to the matter.” I said, “I am sure I have made no mistake in the office, and furthermore, have seen either you or your brother talking to him at the prison. However, my visit to you was to aid your client, and of no immediate value to me, and I have no desire to force the recognition of your client upon you, and will therefore bid you good day.” Upon my withdrawing to the door, he followed me, and said, “Wait a moment; I will go down to the prison and see what my client means; you come here again, shortly.” I replied that I should be in Judge Harvey’s office, and upon his return he could call there if he wished to talk further with me. I would then accompany him to his office. He did call for me, and upon reaching his private office was willing and ready to talk. Our conversation resulted in my placing in his hands for collection nearly $500 worth of good accounts, authorizing him to apply $300 of the proceeds to the robber’s use. I also gave him my Chicago address, in case he wished to write me.