His tormentor was laughing with insane cruelty. "The bull pen! Ha, ha, ha!"
Fred made his way back to his bed. Midway he stopped.
"Does everybody …" he began to stammer—"does everybody … or only those who …"
He broke off in despair. What could this mad giant tell him? But almost before the thought had escaped him his companion read his thought with uncanny precision.
"You think I don't know!" the man said, tapping his head significantly. "But everybody … they all ask me the same question. Yes … you'll take your turn, my friend. Don't be afraid. They'll give you the air in the bull pen, all right! Ha, ha, ha!" And with that he picked up the dishpan of untasted breakfast and hurried from the room.
Fred Starratt sank down upon the bed. His temples were throbbing and his body wet with an icy sweat.
* * * * *
He was roused by a vigorous but not ungentle tap upon the shoulder. He stumbled to his feet, shaking himself into a semblance of courage. But instead of the malevolent giant of the breakfast hour, a genial man of imposing bulk stood before him. "My name is Harrison," his visitor began, kindly; "I'm an assistant to the superintendent… Perhaps you'd like to tell me something about yourself?"
Fred drew back a trifle. "Must I?…"
Harrison smiled as he seated himself in the chair.