It was as extensive a jail as Bowerton needed, and was fully strong enough to hold the few drunken and quarrelsome people who were occasionally lodged in it.
But Beigh, alias Bay Billy, alias Handsome, was no ordinary and vulgar jail-bird, the officers told him, and, that he and they might sleep securely, they considered it advisable to carefully iron his hands.
A couple of hours rolled away, and left Beigh still sitting moody and silent on the single bedstead in the Bowerton jail.
Suddenly the train of his thoughts was interrupted by a low "stt—stt" from the one little, high, grated window of the jail.
The prisoner looked up quickly, and saw the shadow of a man's head outside the grating.
"Hello!" whispered Beigh, hurrying under the window.
"Are you alone?" inquired the shadow.
"Yes," replied the prisoner.
"All right, then," whispered the voice. "There are secrets which no vulgar ears should hear. My name is Guzzy. I have been in love with your wife. I hadn't any idea she was married; but I've brought you my apology."
"I'll forgive you," whispered the criminal; "but—"