Prisoner Wilson, the Warden's favorite messenger, enters from the yard. With quick, energetic step he passes the officers at the desk, entirely ignoring their presence, and walks nonchalantly down the hall, his unnaturally large head set close upon the heavy, almost neckless shoulders.
"Hey, you, Wilson, what are you after?" the Deputy shouts after him.
Without replying, Wilson continues on his way.
"Dep'ty Wilson," the negro jeers, with a look of hatred and envy.
Assistant Deputy Hopkins rises in his seat. "Wilson," he calls with quiet sternness, "Mr. Greaves is speaking to you. Come back at once."
His face purple with anger, Wilson retraces his steps. "What do you want, Deputy?" he demands, savagely.
The Deputy looks uneasy and fidgets in his chair, but catching the severe eye of Hopkins, he shouts vehemently: "What do you want in the block?"
"On Captain Edward S. Wright's business," Wilson replies with a sneer.
"Well, go ahead. But next time I call you, you better come back."