The quarrel between William Bucholz and Edward Sommers.

This was the commencement of an estrangement which lasted several days. These two men, formerly so intimate and friendly, avoided each other so pointedly that it was observed by all the inmates of the prison, and to none did it afford more gratification than to the curious and suspicious Brown, whose black eyes now glittered with a wicked satisfaction as he noticed the coolness that existed between the two men whose previous friendliness had occasioned him so much concern.

He immediately began to make advances toward Bucholz, with, however, but little success. William repelled his attempts at friendliness, and seemed to be sorrowful and despondent. He missed the companionship of Sommers. He felt convinced that he had accused him unjustly, and the only man he cared for among the many by whom he was surrounded held himself aloof from him, and he had no disposition to make new friends.

Three days elapsed, during which no communication took place between them, and this continued silence proved too much for William Bucholz. He missed the companionship that had whiled away so many weary hours, and unable to endure any longer the anger of his friend, he sat down and indited a letter to Sommers, apologizing for his actions and proffering a renewal of his friendship.

This message was duly received by Sommers, who, in addition to their estrangement, appeared to be distressed about his own affairs, but who, nevertheless, welcomed the repentant Bucholz with all the cordiality of his disposition, and the coldness of the past few days was forgotten in this renewal of their friendship.

[ CHAPTER XXIII. ]

The Reconciliation.Bucholz makes an Important Revelation.Sommers obtains His Liberty and leaves the Jail.

It is a truism almost as old as Time itself, that true love is never fully known until after the lovers have once quarreled and made their peace. The kiss of reconciliation after a temporary estrangement is frequently more potent than the first declaration of affection.

Nor was the rule disproved in the present case, and as the two men clasped hands upon the renewal of their seeming friendship, the crisis of their intercourse was reached. The separation of the past few days had shown Bucholz the necessity of a friendly voice and a friendly hand. The guilty secret which he had been keeping so long in his heart must find utterance—it had become heavy to bear. From this day forth all the concealment which he had practiced upon Sommers were to be swept away before the tide of this reconciling influence. Hereafter they were to stand face to face, acknowledged criminals, whose joint interest was to secure their liberty; whose only object was to effect their escape from the meshes of the law they had outraged, and which now seemed to envelop them so completely.

No protestations of innocence or acknowledgments of guilt were necessary—the bedrock of an implicit and instinctive understanding had been reached, and each looked upon the other as fellow prisoners who were to suffer for their misdeeds, unless some potent agency intervened for their preservation.