“I am doing all that is required of me, am I not, at the last work you have given me to do?” “You are, as far as I know, but you were sentenced here to hard labor. I must obey the orders of the courts.” “What is the poor man here for? He talks as if he were a good sort of a fellow.” “Murder. Does that sound as if he were a good fellow? And a poor woman, at that—strangled her to death. A horrible death.” At that moment a voice was heard saying: “_You are accusing him wrongfully. He is not a murderer._” Turning to look for the speaker, they were surprised to see Mr. Pearson ready to speak. “Well, sir, you have recovered. How do you feel?” “I have not been ill.” “Well, we have been very busy for the last half-hour, trying to get you to speak.” “Pat, you may take the stretcher back. The patient will be able to walk to the hospital if he needs to go.” “The way these fellows have of dying and coming to life again must be a trade they have learned.” “Are you not going to let me work, sir, at what I was last given to do?” “You are going to hard labor. No more of this playing off around here.” “Very well, sir.” “I don’t think that you need my services any longer,” said the doctor. “The officer seems all right, and he says that he is. I shall return to the hospital.” “Now, Mr. Pearson,” said the superintendent, “please explain to me—when orders were given to put this man to hard work, you gave him a trusty job.” “I did the best I could. I am not a heartless man. The poor fellow said he could not do hard manual labor, and I believe he told the truth, and I am willing to give him a trial, for proof of his honesty.” “You know of all the crimes he has committed while in here, do you not? Or, at least, tried to and failed.” “In what way, pray tell me?” “Trying to murder the guards. I, for one, had a peculiar experience with him. Found myself in the hospital—fortunately, not hurt, however, but not able to explain what had happened.” “Now you will have to work, sir, and I am going to call Pat. I can trust him to see that you do. “Pat, take this fellow to the booth where they prepare iron for shipping, and see that he works. And I shall assign you, Pat, to take care of him, and him alone. We shall see if this mystery can be cleared up.” “Come along with me, pet 78. I will make a sure enough dead one out of you if you trifle with me. When I have instructions to do anything, I generally do it.” “Now, Mr. Pearson, I shall have to reprimand you. You are working under my instructions. I, bear in mind, hold a higher position over you, and you will have to explain to me the whys and wherefores of what you did, as you did not follow my directions.” “I followed your instructions, sir, the best I could, after Pat spoke of a letter which was received here by you, written as a confession of the crime for which this poor fellow was doing time.”