The day of my trial finally arrived. I took particular pains to dress well for the occasion. Appearance weighs largely in the prisoner’s favor before judge and jury. The trial was brief, the evidence against me conclusive, I could offer none in my favor. The jury retired, and after over two hours deliberation arrived at the fact that I was indeed guilty. I tell you, juries do some strange things and arrive at still stranger conclusions. My sentence was pronounced immediately, and was that I should be confined in the reform school until I reached the age of twenty-one years. As I look back over the years I can see clearly some of the steps that led me over the line. Be it understood that I am making no excuses for my numerous lapses of morality; I shall merely endeavor to trace some of the causes which led me into the underworld. CHAPTER IV EFFECTS OF GAMBLING I have already mentioned the fact that I am possessed of a defective vision. I believe, and believe sincerely, that this defect of vision is a handicap to its possessor in the legitimate battle of life. It was partly responsible in my life for my extreme diffidence, a diffidence that became in itself one of the causes which led me into the environment of the pool room. It kept me away from those of good character, from the decent fellowship of girls and boys of my own age. I do not mean to say that the defect in itself did all this, but by reason of it my nature acquired a peculiar temperament, a sort of aloofness. I have always loved a crowd. I like the life of a city with its busy folks and ceaseless rush of activity. I like fellowship, companions to talk to; I hate to be alone. In search of these I drifted to the pool room. I find this pool room another step in my journey to the reform school. It is my experience that while all gamblers may not be crooks, all crooks are gamblers. This passion for gambling grew strong within me; my nature was a fertile field for its propagation. Many a dollar of my ill-gotten gains has gone in a futile attempt to appease its appetite. Here lies one of the big causes that drove me on. It isn’t the mere gambling itself which is so destructive to character, it is the lust for money, the passion for gain that gambling begets, the creating of a “money want” which the earnings from legitimate labor cannot satisfy; this to me is the vital evil of the passion. This “money want” eats into the will power of the man, eventually breaking it down and sending the man to the devil. I know now that the three months I spent in jail hurried me on to the life I lived eventually. Some people will say that I must have been inherently depraved anyhow, that three months in jail could have little to do with the making of my character. Of course I do not know what my life would have been if I had never entered the jail. If, for instance, I had been paroled, or, if some one had reasoned and talked the thing over with me, might not the outcome have been different?