I rose to my feet, and shouted: “I am an innocent man! I will be proven so before I leave this prison.” “All who are sent here are innocent. Some of you surely get justice in trials.” “I did not, for I was sentenced on circumstantial evidence, and I know and my God knows that I am innocent! The dear woman who was murdered knows who killed her.” “Well, the woman is dead, and you can not prove by her that you did not kill her.” “My friend, she is not dead. Her body is, but her spirit is not, and she can and will come and let it be known who the real murderer is.” “Here, if you are crazy, we will put you in the mad-house. I know when you are dead you are dead.” “I hope to be able to convince you before I leave here that the body dies, but the spirit lives on and returns and will and can talk.” “Here, are you going to work? I have heard enough of your foolish talk.” “I will try, sir.” [Illustration: “MY GOD, MAN, I NEVER DID SUCH HARD WORK.”] No one can realize how I suffered. I was not able to work, yet I was forced to do so. I worried through that day. I could not eat the poor food that was given us. Another morning came. During the restless night I had prayed for help from the Spirit World, and I felt that my prayers were answered. The guard called: “You, I say, that never dies, get out here and get your breakfast and go to work.” I stood up, and said: “I am ready, sir, but this morning I am so sick.” “You eat what you get, and in a hurry too, for we want to see you at work.” I obeyed, and was soon on the road to work. The prison laws were that we were not allowed to speak to our fellow-men. I watched my chance to speak, and when opportunity presented, I said: “Friend, how long are you here for?” He did not answer. I thought perhaps he was hard of hearing, and repeated the words. He finally looked up and moved his lips. I knew he had served some time, as he had learned the sight movement of the lips, and I did not and could not understand that. I saw that I was lost, not knowing how to talk in that way. The guard said roughly: “You are not doing much. Here, are you watching for opportunity to lay down on me when I am not looking?” “I am not, guard. I am doing all I am able to.” “I think if you had a day or two rest in the rest-room it would help you. Come along here with me.” The rest-room was a dungeon, dark as night. When I heard the heavy iron door close after me, I fell upon my knees and prayed God to take me from the place of darkness. I was hungry and cold. All the time I could hear the words: “_We know you are innocent and will help you, and you shall be out of this place of unjust punishment._” That night—oh, so long! Cold and hungry I was—I had no bed. The following morning I was given water and was told to drink and be merry; yes, to be _merry_! I wonder if the outside world could and does believe the stories of the unfortunate ones who, guilty or not guilty, have to endure tortures behind prison walls.