“Well, I just made the train. The next time I would like a few minutes to think between this place and the train. I never went so fast in all my life. I would be a good messenger. I could get the bad news to them in a hurry, as all of the confounded things have bad news in them. “There comes Pat. I will give him the order I left with Pearson. “Pat, I am going on some business, and I want you to put all of those torn pieces of paper in the fire and burn them up. I do not want anyone to see them. I made some errors and re-wrote the letter,” said the superintendent. “Now you have gone,” said Pearson, “I will take care of those torn pieces of paper. Here is an envelope addressed to the place where Clarence committed the murder, and here is all of the letter. Now I’ll see what was the cause for rush.” The letter ran as follows: “I am writing you for help in looking up the case of a convict by the name of Clarence Pearson. I have every reason to believe that he is innocent of the crime for which he is serving sentence. Wire me if you have a name in the directory of your city like this: Devenart. If there is such a man, hold him for murder.” “My God!” gasped Pearson. “What does this mean? I am lost. I feel that they will find him innocent, and I guilty of crime; and I have sworn to the death of Clarence, so that I might receive his share of the estate. Now it is all to come out.” “Well,” said Pat, “I met the officer, and he told me to clean up around and destroy the papers he has written on, and I don’t see any.” “I had nothing to do and I put things in order,” said Pearson. “Where did you throw the scraps?” “I put them in the fire.” “Did you lave the office to do it?” “No, I did not leave the office.” “Then where is the fire you put them in? I was told to burn them and I must obey orders. If you did not burn them, I will be after doing it.” “You are always meddling in someone’s affairs, Pat. You go along. I am taking care of this place.” “And I’m thinking you are taking care of some things in this place—at least, I would like to see those torn pieces of paper.” “You may go to No. 78’s cell and see if he wants to come here. I would like to talk with him. Perhaps I can get some idea of the kind of work he could do.” “I will obey you. Now it is up to the poor convict to take his choice of work. And if he plases to come, he can.” To the prisoner: “Well, are you asleep? Would you like to take a walk over to the office? Now, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” “I am willing, Pat, to do anything I am asked to do.” “You are very obliging. I’m sure I would be plased if all the convicts would be as agreeable as you.” “You may bring him in, Pat, and then go to your work. I shall not need you any more at present,” said Pearson. “I’ll go, but devil a bit will I work. I don’t think annyone needs me now, and I’ll just sit down here until someone does need me.”