Brewer thought a minute.
"I calc'late mebbe there air fifty, mebbe a hundred," he answered. "I ain't never counted 'em, mister."
Jake moved on a little, but the warden stopped him peremptorily.
"Any jail birds down there?" he thrust at him.
Brewer made a negative gesture.
"Not's I know of," he stammered.
"Ain't nobody down there been in jail? Anybody ever been to Auburn?"
Jake's crooked fingers mounted from his hair line to the back of his skull, lifting the soft cap partly from his head. Then he scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, there ain't no guilty man down there," he said, at last. "There air Orn Skinner—"
Burnett gave an exultant cry.