VOICE—[To YANK.] Hey, you guy. There's your ape stuff again.
YANK—[With a growl of fury.] I got him. So dey blow up tings, do dey? Dey turn tings round, do dey? Hey, lend me dat paper, will yuh?
VOICE—Sure. Give it to him. On'y keep it to yourself, see. We don't wanter listen to no more of that slop.
VOICE—Here you are. Hide it under your mattress.
YANK—[Reaching out.] Tanks. I can't read much but I kin manage. [He sits, the paper in the hand at his side, in the attitude of Rodin's "The Thinker." A pause. Several snores from down the corridor. Suddenly YANK jumps to his feet with a furious groan as if some appalling thought had crashed on him—bewilderedly.] Sure—her old man—president of de Steel Trust—makes half de steel in de world—steel—where I tought I belonged—drivin' trou—movin'—in dat—to make HER—and cage me in for her to spit on! Christ [He shakes the bars of his cell door till the whole tier trembles. Irritated, protesting exclamations from those awakened or trying to get to sleep.] He made dis—dis cage! Steel! IT don't belong, dat's what! Cages, cells, locks, bolts, bars—dat's what it means!—holdin' me down wit him at de top! But I'll drive trou! Fire, dat melts it! I'll be fire—under de heap—fire dat never goes out—hot as hell—breakin' out in de night—[While he has been saying this last he has shaken his cell door to a clanging accompaniment. As he comes to the "breakin' out" he seizes one bar with both hands and, putting his two feet up against the others so that his position is parallel to the floor like a monkey's, he gives a great wrench backwards. The bar bends like a licorice stick under his tremendous strength. Just at this moment the PRISON GUARD rushes in, dragging a hose behind him.]
GUARD—[Angrily.] I'll loin youse bums to wake me up! [Sees YANK.] Hello, it's you, huh? Got the D.T.s, hey? Well, I'll cure 'em. I'll drown your snakes for yuh! [Noticing the bar.] Hell, look at dat bar bended! On'y a bug is strong enough for dat!
YANK—[Glaring at him.] Or a hairy ape, yuh big yellow bum! Look out! Here I come! [He grabs another bar.]
GUARD—[Scared now—yelling off left.] Toin de hoose on, Ben!—full pressure! And call de others—and a strait jacket! [The curtain is falling. As it hides YANK from view, there is a splattering smash as the stream of water hits the steel of YANK's cell.]
[Curtain]