Sweeney puffed his pipe contentedly, but thoughtfully, and shook his heavy beard. “Well, well! But now, I'll say this for you, Hicks. You're an entertainin' man. I'll say that to anybody that asks. I'll say, 'Hicks is a man that's got language, if I know what's what.'” The jailor rose. Allen swung his foot swiftly. “I wish you'd do something for me, Sweeney.” “What's that?” “Let me have the gas at night. I don't sleep good. If I had the gas I could get up and read. You heavy men, you sleep all night. You don't know what it is.” “Why, I'll see, Hicks. I'll ask about that to-morrow.” “Oh, let me have it to-night!” he pleaded. “I ain't going to sleep good to-night. I can feel it. It'll be eternity before morning. I swear I'll be dead before morning. I'll turn it low.” “Well--I don't see no harm in that. It ain't in me to rough a man.” He went out, locking the door noisily behind him. Allan lay still. His foot swung steadily, but more slowly. After a time Sweeney came down the corridor, making his ten o'clock round. He went to the end, and back again, and then downstairs. The corridor was quiet. Half an hour later Allen got up and filled his pipe, lit it at the gas jet, turned the jet low, and lay down again across his mattress. He smoked with quick, sharp puffs, but not fast. He swung his foot slowly, and stared at a point on the blank wall over the gas jet. Eleven o'clock struck. After the theatre crowds were gone past, the noise of the city grew less. There were fewer cars, and only now and then footsteps on the neighbouring pavement. Twelve o'clock struck. He got up again, slipped off his shoes, and went to his window. A maple tree grew directly in front, some twenty feet away. Its leaves were thick, but he could see the glitter of the electric light through them. The sidewalk was high as the lower windows of the jail, for the Court House Square was on sunken land. The black shadow of the maple covered the front of the jail down to the ground. The grating of the window had its bars set at both sides, and at the top and bottom. There were two rows of bricks from the bars to the inner edge of the window, and the wooden framework that held the panes of glass was set close to the grating. The outside of the sill was stone. Allen went back and lifted his mattress. There was a rent in the seam of the lower edge. He thrust in his hand, drew out a black cloth cap and put it on his head. Then he drew out a heavy chisel with a battered wooden handle, and returned to the window. The woodwork came away, cracking slightly as the nails drew out. He leaned the boards and frame carefully against the wall. He tried one crack after another between the bricks at the bottom of the window, pushing and pressing. Presently one became loose, then another. He laid them one by one in a neat row on the floor.