"Ah, you should not joke upon such a serious matter," he answered, with a degree of confusion that could not have escaped the attention of his friend.
"Never mind, my friend," replied Sommers. "It will all come out right in the end, only you must not talk to your fellow-prisoners about their troubles, nor allow them to talk to you about yours."
"Oh, no!" said Bucholz; "my lawyers always tell me to say nothing to anybody."
"That is right. You cannot tell who would be your friend or who your enemy, in a place of this kind."
The next day, as they were sitting together, two German newspapers were handed to Sommers by the hall-man, and upon receiving them he handed them at once to his companion. Bucholz opened the paper carelessly, but as his eyes glanced over its contents, he stopped, started to his feet, and then throwing the paper suddenly down upon the floor, he buried his face in his hands.
"What is the matter now?" asked Sommers, astonished at this strange behavior, and picking up the discarded paper.
"Look there!" exclaimed Bucholz, pointing to a passage in the paper. "Read that. That is the first time that paper ever said I was guilty."
The article to which he alluded was in regard to a statement which Bucholz had made at the time of his arrest. In explaining the fact of his having several large sums of money in his possession, he had declared that his sister had sent them to him from Germany. This statement had just been discovered to be untrue, and the denial of the sister of the fact of her having sent any money at all, was the basis of the article in question.
"This looks rather bad for you, William," said Sommers, sorrowfully.
"It does look bad," he replied, "but I never did say that I received any money from my sister. I never did say anything of that kind."