* * * * * Darkness had settled over the prison, and not a sound was heard but the whispering of two men. “I got to get this chart of the prison in to Farren on my beat,” said one, “and then I’m going to turn in.” “You had better be careful that you don’t take his place. It’s worth more than a hundred to do such a job as this.” “I know, but when you can’t get no more, what youse going to do? I tried to raise yours and mine. Now then, a hundred goes a long ways filling up seven hungry mouths like I have home.” “Just so,” retorted the other, and they subsided into silence. In a cell a young man was lying as quiet as a mouse, and his breath was coming in short pants, as if excitement was overcoming him. He heard the tramp of feet, and soon a hand was shoved through his cell bars and a paper was extended to him. “Here is the chart. Be careful, and don’t forget about the baby.” The long fingers covered over the paper, and the youth lay down again, this time breathing easier, and he realized that there was much to do before the morning should dawn. Many a man had escaped from this place, only to again be taken by the guards before they could get into New York. For a long time he lay thinking, and he could hear the guards talking in a low tone nearby, but his heart was even then quickening in its beating, for another thought had come into his mind. Once he remembered doing a mean thing to a fellow being. Stealing from the rich was just in the sight of Jim, but to do a trick unjust and unkind was not his way. He knew that this baby killing was to be the meanest thing of his life. If it were not for blessed freedom he would back out in a moment. Suddenly he sat up and whispered loudly: “Tom Cooper.” All was silent. “Tom Cooper,” he said, this time a little louder. Another voice came from the other cell. “Yes, what is it?” “Listen, for I cannot speak too loudly. I want to take you out of this place to-night. Do you want to go?” There was an evident stir in the opposite cell. “How can you take me out?” said the voice. “Here, I will throw you a file, and you cut through your cell door, and I will do the same, and I have friends who are going to help me. Now, don’t wait too long.” If any one had been listening they would have heard the distinct buzzing of two tiny files making their way through the steel bars in the cells of two convicts. When the task was over Tom Cooper stood a free man in the corridor. “How are we going to leave this place?” asked Tom in a low voice. “By a boat. I don’t know how to manage one, but you do, and the river is high. Now then, we’ve got to run for it. You are not to say a word, for there is to be but one missing, and I’m letting you into my good luck, for I’m thinking that you were put in here unjustly, and some day I’ll tell you all about it.” Tom was too interested to listen to more, and he hastily asked the way to the boat.