Whereupon, with the pink slip in his hand, he walked to a small desk at the farther side of the corridor and sat in an arm-chair with his back toward the three now on the wooden bench, waiting for Lem knew not what. In the meantime, Lem's eyes roved about making a grim inventory of this great merciless cage that had engulfed his body. He was inside a mammoth arcade-like structure that stretched its repellent length out a thousand feet and more to a blind, sinister end. Along its sides, equi-distant, appeared high arched double windows, bolted and barred with a lattice-work of iron. Wherever Lem perceived a spot of God's light, a cold, forbidding hand lay across it like a blasphemy, spreading out its unyielding, black, skeleton fingers to enmesh a human soul. Moreover, this stupendous, invulnerable shell incased and jealously protected a second structure equally strong and grisly, for as Lem looked, he noted this other structure occupying the center of the arcade. It was a tomb within a tomb, and the boy's already heavy heart sickened as his eyes slid down the seemingly interminable vista of small iron-barred doors, some four feet apart, that diminished in perspective toward the distant end until they shrank to the size of a newspaper. The doors in this cunning edifice were accessible by means of a steel skeleton-work forming lengthwise porches five stories high, where even a sluggish imagination could visualize convenient gibbets stationed just outside these black, mysterious doors, awaiting the condemned necks of the inmates. While Lem made further notations in undisguised wonderment, convicts were constantly passing to and fro. They were "short time" men who had their allotted duties, working about the tiers and corridors. Presently, Lem became suddenly conscious that the two men at the other end of the bench were eyeing him curiously. Their interchange of looks and low words to each other made it obvious that Lem was a subject of comment. Now that Lem was looking straight at them, the man nearest slid along the bench, smiled good-humoredly, then whispered: "What did ye draw, bo?" The man watched Lem's mute lips for response. "What did they give ye, pal?" he repeated, while the second man slid over and craned his neck for the answer. Lem still looked puzzled, but finally answered. "Nothin'." The other started a laugh which was squelched with an elbow punch in the ribs from his companion. "I mean, pal," pursued Lem's inquisitor, "did ye git a sentence in this jail, er did they bind ye over?" "I air continued," replied the boy gloomily, "wherever thet takes me." "Oh, yes--is this your first pinch?" Lem risked a nod, with only a vague notion of what "pinch" meant. Presently the man spoke again. "Say, pal, you ain't never been in jail before, have ye?" "Naw," responded Lem without hesitation, "an' I 'low I want out o' heah, too." He delivered this earnest sentiment with such guileless sincerity that both men snickered.