“It is sad to behold a young man like yourself, who, by an upright and virtuous life, might have been an honorable and useful citizen, enjoying the blessings of the most refined and elevated society, banished, as it were, from all that renders life desirable. The evil consequences of your crime are not confined to yourself. For to save you from the punishment of your offense no less than five of your family and friends have perjured themselves to establish an _alibi_ in your behalf, for which offense two of them have already pleaded guilty and are condemned to serve terms at hard labor in the penitentiary--a punishment the more serious in its consequences because not confined to themselves alone, but to their helpless families and children as well. “Sad as these consequences are, you may, and it is your duty, to repent of your offense against the laws of the State and the Nation, and against your Maker, your family, and your own well-being, and commence a new life by obeying strictly all the laws of God and man, and especially the regulations of the prison in which you will be confined. If you do this, in the course of time the President may grant you a pardon; but whether this is granted or not, your best interest is to obey whatever may be required of you, and also to employ all of the means that may be offered you to improve your mind and your morals, and to make preparations for the final judgment. “I feel assured that if you conduct yourself properly you will be not only treated well, clothed and fed well, but will receive as kind treatment as the circumstances will permit. “Will you promise me that you will follow this advice? (The prisoner replied in a subdued tone, “I will follow your advice.”) “The judgment of the Court and of the law is, that for the offense for which you stand convicted you be delivered to the warden of the penitentiary of the State of Ohio, at Columbus, and be there imprisoned at hard labor for and during your natural life.” CHAPTER XXIII. CONCLUSION. “_An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told_.” If the reader has been disappointed in the fact that the hero of this narrative has not been vested with the glamour of princely wealth; that he has not been painted a knight-errant of more romantic type; and that a champion in the field of pillage and plunder should not wear golden spurs and a helmet of brass, the fault lies not with the author, but rather with the popular error which pre-supposes these fallacious results. The stereotyped question of all interested in his career has been, “What did Rube Burrow do with his money?”