"Yes Joe, I've just been with her." "What did she say?" I began to tell him. "I knew it," he interrupted me. "I made up my mind to this the first night I spent here in my cell. It couldn't have happened, it wouldn't have worked. Tell her I understand all about it, tell her that I'm sure she's right. Tell her--it's funny but it's true--tell her this infernal pen has worked the same way on me as on her. I mean it has made me not want her now. I feel sorry for her and that's all--deeply and infernally sorry. I was a fool to have let her into it. My only excuse for being so blind was that damned fever that left me so weak. At any other time I would have seen what a farce it was. I wasn't booked for a life like that. It doesn't fit in with this job of mine." He smiled a little bitterly. "I used to say," he continued, "that if I had time I'd like to do something yellow enough so that I'd be cut off for life from any chance of church bells. And I guess I've done it this time--no danger of getting respectable now." "How do you look at this, Joe?" I asked him. "What do you think they'll do to you?" "I don't know." Again he smiled slightly and wearily. "And I can't say I _care_ a damn. I feel like those fellows over in Russia, the revolutionist chaps I met, who didn't know if they'd croak in a month and didn't care one way or the other. But as a matter of fact," he added, "I think this time it's mainly bluff. They wanted to get us away from the crowd and keep us away while they broke the strike. Now that it's over you'll probably find they'll let us all off with light sentences. Of course the murder charge can't hold.... By the way," he added, smiling, "I hear they got you, too." "Yes," I answered, smiling back. "The Judge fined me ten dollars and let me go. He said he hoped this would be a lesson." Joe looked at me curiously: "How much of a lesson, Kid, do you think this strike has been to you?" "Quite a big one, Joe," I said. "What are you going to do about it?" "I haven't decided." "How is Eleanore taking it all?" "She's not saying much and neither am I. We're both doing some thinking before we talk." "You're a quiet pair," J. K. remarked. "I shouldn't wonder if you'd nose along quite a distance before you get through--I mean in our direction." "That's what we're thinking about," I replied. Again he turned to me curiously: "You two can think together--without talking--can't you?" "Yes--sometimes we can." "I never got that far with Sue." All at once he came closer, his whole manner changed: "Say, Bill--tell her all I've said--will you? I'm sorry! Honest Injun! Make her feel how damnably sorry I am that I ever let her in for this!" When I left him I went off for a walk, for I wanted to be alone awhile. I wondered just how sure Joe felt about his fast approaching trial. It seemed to me that he had a good chance of going where Sue had pictured him. CHAPTER II