"What can the law do with fellows of our sort? Look at the thing straight now. We’ve got good in us, of course; but you can’t trust us to hold our horses. I don’t blame them for what they’re giving me—hardly any. Only, I’ll be darned if it doesn’t make me surer that all this is only an experiment—a way of finding out how not to do it—so that we can make the next go a better one." They discussed this topic in a desultory way, not so much letting it drop as pursuing it each in his own thought. Teddy picked up the line again after an interval of time, and some distance farther on. "I suppose you can’t believe that you come to a place where you know you’re through and are in a hurry to get on. Well, you do. I guess old people like ma reach there, anyhow; and young people, too, when they’re—when they’re like me. I’ve had my shot—and I’ve miffed it. Now I’m all on edge to have another try. I’m so crazy about that that the thing that’s to happen first doesn’t seem anything—very much." The hours wore on, but it seemed to Bob a night to which there was no time. Though the support he brought to Teddy was merely that of companionship, he felt that the boy was outstripping him. In Teddy’s own phrase, he was "moving on," but moving on very fast. Bob couldn’t tell how he knew this; he only felt himself being left behind. Teddy was quite right; his old experiment _was_ over, and some of the exaltation of the new one was already breaking through. That was the meaning of his silences, his abstractions. That was why he came out of each such spell with a smile that grew more luminous. The Italian and the negro fell asleep. The four guards talked less to one another. Clutching the bar grew tiring. Brannigan, one of Teddy’s guards, brought up a chair, offering it to Bob. "Why don’t you sit down? It’ll be quite a while yet." Bob took the chair, Teddy the one inside the cell. Bringing it as close to the bars as possible, he thrust his fingers through the opening to touch Bob’s hand. Bob closed the fingers within his palm, and so held them. "I’m not going to send any message to ma and the girls. They know I love them. You can’t add anything to that." A sidelong smile stole through the bars. "I love you too, Bob. I guess it’s a bum thing to say, but to-night—well, it’s different—and I’m going to say it. I can’t do anything to thank you; but it may mean something to you to have me loving you like the devil all the way from—from over there." "It means something to me now." "Then that’s all right." The Italian breathed heavily. The negro snored. The guards were bored and somnolent. Teddy might have been asleep except for the look and the smile that every now and then crept through the bars toward his companion. Suddenly he pulled his fingers from Bob’s clasp, jumped to his feet, and held out his arms. "All right, ma! I’m ready!" The cry was so loud and joyous that Bob sprang up. Brannigan lumbered forward.