“Well, in the mornin’ the marshal came in and brought me some breakfast. Then he took me up to the office again. He waited a few minutes till the judge come, and then they commenced firin’ questions at me. They asked me how I got from St. Louis to where I was, That kind of puzzled me, for I didn’t exactly know where I was. I answered it the best I could; but I know I didn’t get it right. They told me I hadn’t got over lyin’ and I’d have to be shut up some more. Then they asked me what public buildin’s there was in St. Louis. I made a guess and told ‘em the court-house and state-house. They laughed at this, and said St. Louis wa’n’t the capital of Missouri. And of course I didn’t argue with ‘em about that. Then they wanted to know how I come there and I said I walked. And they wanted to know what places I come through and I couldn’t tell ‘em. Then they asked me where I had walked, and I couldn’t tell ‘em that; and they asked me how far I’d walked, and I told ‘em not very far, and they laughed at my clothes and shoes and said they was ‘most wore out, and they didn’t believe it, and told me again that they thought I was lyin’ and I’d have to stay there till I learnt how to tell the truth. Then I got mad and said I hadn’t done nothin’ and they hadn’t any right to keep me, and I wouldn’t answer any more questions; that they didn’t believe anything I said anyhow and it wa’n’t any use, and to go ahead and do what they pleased with me.
“Then the marshal went to his desk and got a lot of photographs and hand-bills tellin’ about murderers and robbers and burglars and pickpockets and ever’thing else, that was sent to him from all over the country, and he took ‘em and looked ‘em all over and then looked at me. Then he sorted out a dozen or so and stared at me more particular than before. I seen what he had in his hand; I seen one of ‘em was my picture; only I was smooth-faced and now my whiskers had got long. He made me take off my clothes and looked me over careful, and found where I had broke my leg the time that I caught my foot between the rails when I thought I was goin’ to be run over. You remember the time? I wish now I had. Then he let me put on my clothes, and he went over all the descriptions just as careful as he could, and he found that the hand-bill told about a broken leg; then he looked at my face again, and then he asked me when I’d shaved last, and I told him I never shaved. Then he wanted to know how tall I was, and I told him I didn’t know, so he measured me by standin’ me up ‘gainst the wall and markin’ the place. I tried to scrooch down as much as I could without him noticin’ it; but he said it was just ‘bout what the hand-bill had it. Then he asked me how much I weighed, and I told him I hadn’t been weighed for years. So he called someone to help him, and they put some han’cuffs on one arm and fastened the other to the marshal and took me over to a store, and made me stand on the scales till I got weighed. He said I weighed just a little bit less than the hand-bill made it, and that if I’d walked from Chicago that would account for the difference. Then he looked over my clothes, but he couldn’t find any marks on ‘em.
“Then he sent down for the barber and told him to shave me. I objected to that and told him he hadn’t any right to do it; that I wasn’t charged with any crime, and he said it didn’t make no difference, he was goin’ to do it anyway. So I knew it wa’n’t no use, and I set down and let the barber shave me. Of course I knew it would all be up as soon as I got shaved. But I didn’t care so very much if it was; it wa’n’t any worse than runnin’ all the time and bein’ ‘fraid of ever’-one you met and knowin’ you’d be ketched at last.
“Well, after the barber got through shavin’ me, the marshal took the picture and held it up ‘side of my face, and anyone could see ‘twas me. He was so glad he almost shouted. And he told the police judge that he’d got one of the most dangerous criminals in the whole United States, and he was entitled to one thousand dollars reward. I never see a boy feel so good over anythin’ as he did over ketchin’ me. He said that now he could pay off the mortgage on his house and get his girl piano lessons, and run for sheriff next fall. When he told me I was Jackson, I denied it and said I never knew anything about Chicago, and was never there in my life. He didn’t pay any attention to this, but wired to Chicago, givin’ a full description of me. Of course, it wa’n’t long before he got back word that I was Jackson, and to hold me till they sent someone down.
“After the marshal found out who I was he treated me a good deal better’n before. He got me nice fried chicken ‘most every meal, and always coffee or tea and corn-cakes, and I couldn’t complain of the board. Then he got my clothes washed and give me some new pants and shoes and fixed me up quite nice. He come in and visited with me a good deal and seemed real social and happy. He give me cigars to smoke and sometimes a drink o’ whiskey, and treated me as if he really liked me. I expect he couldn’t help feelin’ friendly to me, because he thought of that one thousand dollars, and that he wouldn’t’ve got it if I hadn’t killed her, and in one way a good deal as if I done it on his account. Of course he wa’n’t really glad I done it, but so long as I done it, he was glad I come his way. I s’pose he hadn’t anything against me any more’n a cat has against a mouse that it ketches and plays with till it gets ready to eat it up. His business was ketchin’ people just like the cat’s is ketchin’ rats. Seems to me, though, I’d hate to be in his business, even if it is a bad lot you’ve got to ketch. Still he watched me closer’n ever, even if he was good to me. He didn’t mean to let that thousand dollars get away. He kep’ someone ‘round the jail all the time, and he got some extra bars on the windows, and when he come to see me or talk with me he always brought someone with him so I couldn’t do anything to him. He needn’t worried so much, for I was clean tired out and discouraged, and I felt better in there than I had any time since I killed her. Bein’ out of jail ain’t necessar’ly liberty. If you’re ‘fraid all the time and have got to dodge and keep hid and can’t go where you want to and are runnin’ away all the time, you might just as well be shut up, for you ain’t free.
“Soon as the marshal found out who I was, it didn’t take the news long to travel ‘round the town, and it seemed as if ever’one there come to the lock-up to see me. The boys used to come up ‘round the windows and kind of stay back, as if they thought I might reach out and ketch ‘em, but I always kep’ as far away as I could. Then the people would come down with the marshal to the cell when he brought my supper and look at me to see me eat, and try to get me to come up and talk to ‘em and watch me same as you’ve seen ‘em look at bears when they was feedin’ up at Lincoln Park, and they’d point to me and say, ‘That’s him; just see his for’head. Wouldn’t I hate to get caught out alone with him? Anyone could see what he is by lookin’ at him. I bet they make short work of him when they get him to Chicago!’ I always kep’ back as far as I could for I didn’t want to be seen. No one had ever looked at me or paid any attention to me before, or said anything about me, and I hadn’t ever expected to have my name or picture in the paper, or to have people come and see me, and anyhow not this way.
“Of course, I knew well enough that it wouldn’t last long, and that they’d be here for me in two or three days. I can’t tell you just how I felt. I knew I was caught, and that there wa’n’t much chance for me. I knew all the evidence would be circumstantial, still I knew I done it, and luck never had come my way anyhow, so I didn’t have much hopes that ‘twould now. Then I began to feel as if it might as well be over. If I was goin’ to be hung, I might just as well be hung and done with it. There wa’n’t any kind of a show for me any more, and it wa’n’t any use to fight. Then I began to figger on how long ‘twould take. I knew there was cases where it took years, but I always thought them cases must have been where they had lots of money and could hire high-priced lawyers. And I hadn’t got any money, and the newspapers had said so much about my case that I was sure that they wouldn’t give me much chance or any more than the law allowed.
“Well, inside of two days some fellers come down from the sheriff’s office in Chicago. I didn’t know either one of ‘em, but they had all kinds of pictures and descriptions and said there wa’n’t any doubt about who I was, and said I might as well own up and be done with it. But I didn’t see any use of ownin’ up to anything, so I wouldn’t answer any questions or say much one way or another. Then they explained to me that they hadn’t any right to take me out of the state without a requisition from the gov’nor, and it would take a week or so to get that, and I might just as well go back with them without puttin’ ‘em to this bother; that it always looked better when anyone went back themselves, and anyhow I’d be kep’ here in jail till they got a requisition. So I told ‘em all right, I’d just as soon go back to Chicago as anywhere, and I hadn’t done nothin’ that I had to be ‘fraid of, and was ready to go as soon as they was. So they stayed till the next mornin’ and then han’-cuffed me and put me between ‘em and led me down to the depot. Before I left the lock-up the marshal give me a good breakfast and some cigars and shook hands with me, and said he hoped I’d have a pleasant journey.
“When I went down to the depot it seemed as if the whole town, black and white, had turned out to see me, and ever’one was pointin’ to me and sayin’, ‘That’s him; that’s him.’ ‘He looks it, don’t he?’ And pretty soon the train come up and the officers and conductor kep’ the crowd back while they took me into the smokin’-car. It seemed as if ever’one in the car and on the whole train knew who I was and just what I’d done, and they all come up to the smokin’-car to get a look at me, and pass remarks about me, and ever’one seemed glad to think I was caught and was goin’ to be hung.
“It ain’t no use to tell you all about the trip home. It didn’t take me as long to come back as it did to go ‘way. At pretty near ever’ station there was a crowd out to see the train, and all of ‘em tried to get a look at me. The conductor and brakemen all pointed me out and the people come to the doors and stood up before the window and did ever’thing they could think of to see me. The detectives treated me all right. They gave me all I could eat and talked with me a good deal. They didn’t ask many questions, and told me I needn’t say any more’n I had a mind to, but they told me a good deal about politics and how that the alderman was runnin’ again, and all that was goin’ on in Chicago, and where all they’d been huntin’ for me since I run away. I had to sit up at night. One of ‘em kep’ han’-cuffed to me all night and another han’cuff was fastened to the seat. I don’t s’pose they could’ve made it any more comfortable and see that I didn’t run away. But still I don’t ever want to take that kind of a ride again and I s’pose I never will.