"What a dreadful place!" said my sister, as she strained her eyes to catch sight of some prisoner.
My uncle was gone not over ten minutes, yet the wait seemed an age. He returned with a brightened face.
"I had hard work to get permission, but we are to have half an hour's talk with your father under the supervision of a deputy," he explained.
In another moment we were inside. We walked along a wide corridor and into an office, and then a short, stout man, Mr. Carr, the deputy, joined us.
"This way, please," he said, and gave a kindly glance at Kate and myself. "You will have to leave the basket here. I will see that it reaches the—the—your father."
He led the way. How my heart beat! Why, I cannot tell.
"I'll go in first," said my Uncle Enos.
We entered a room. In a moment the deputy brought in a man dressed in striped clothing, and with his hair cut close. It was my father.
My uncle and I rushed forward. But we were too late. With a cry Kate was in his arms. It was a great moment all around.
"My children! My Katie and my Roger!" was all my father could say, but the words went straight home.