JUST A PAL
By Elsie D. Knisely
Jim Doyle—sent to Sing Sing last year—is innocent. I done the job he was sent up for. I was broke and out of work and Mary, my wife, had consumption and needed food and warm clothes and medicine. I held up a guy with more than he needed that didn’t come by it any honester than I done when I cracked him over the head and took it out of his belt. Then Jim cooked up a scheme to own he done it and take my medicine as long as Mary lived, so she wouldn’t know and so’s I could be with her and look after her. She died to-day. There’s one hundred and fifty dollars under the mattress along with the proof that I’m the guilty guy. Bury my wife decent and give the rest to Jim to get on his feet after you turn him loose. Get a kind-hearted parson to say a prayer over me and then plant me in Potter’s Field. I’m going the gas route. Jim’s no kin of mine—just a pal. He allowed no one would care a darn if he was in the pen or not. He loved a girl once, but she turned out bad and spoiled Jim’s life. Tell him “God bless him.”
P. S.—I’m sorry I killed that guy, but I just had to have money for Mary. Mebbe I can square it with him where I’m going.