With the certainty of ancient practice he applied rouge and pencil deftly to his face, rubbing in a deeper tinge on the cheeks, shadowing the temples, accentuating by ever so little the corners of eyes and mouth. Lastly he drew a slanting scar on the right cheek, emphasising it a trifle, as the keynote of the counterfeit. He looked at himself, swiftly, critically. There was but the one double gate and the single watchman to pass--and the sunlight was not bright under the archway! And luckily the fur cap, with its ear-flaps, effectually hid the cropped scalp. He wasted no time in changing clothes, but turned up the striped trousers and the sleeves of the jacket and donned the smart habilaments over his prison rig, the extra lining compensating for his slighter form. In five minutes he was completely dressed, even to spats and flaunting tie. All the while he was thinking rapidly and coolly, weighing contingencies, estimating chances, taking into lightning account each detail which might mean the slenderest advantage in the desperate game. Lastly he thrust his prison cap under his coat and put the make-up box and the tin dinner-pail into the empty valise. Overcoated and with the valise in his hand, he strode to the door--to come back to his desk with a quick afterthought, to pick up the record-card that bore his own number, and slip it into an inner pocket. Then he opened the door and went quickly down the stair. Fate was kind. The Warden was not in his office. As a matter of fact, at that very moment, with outward gravity yet with inner amusement, he was witnessing John Stark's nonchalant experiment and finding the bit of clever impersonation, under the very eyes of his unsuspecting assistants, vastly diverting. Harry went out to the gate. The watchman looked up, surprised. "Hello!" he said. "The half-hour isn't up already, is it? Or did you weaken?" Harry laughed. "Not I!" he answered, airily. "I've had no end of a lark. I'd have stayed longer only I've got a rehearsal on. I could have pulled the wool over their eyes for a week!" As he spoke he drew out a silver cigarette-and-match box which his hand had encountered in the overcoat pocket, and lighted a cigarette behind his cupped hands. In that crucial instant he dared not look at the face so near him and his heart seemed to flutter and then stop beating--till there came the ponderous grind of the great lock as the inner gate swung open. The watchman was chuckling as he unlocked the outer barrier. "Well, that's one on the Deputy Warden!" he said appreciatively. "You're a clever one to have pulled it off!" Harry stepped jauntily through. "Come and see me do it on the stage," he said, nodding a brisk good-bye. "It's up to the Warden to stand tickets all round, I should think!" The gate clanged shut behind him.