"Yes—it's capital punishment; they either come out entirely bad or with fowl natures. It's enough to make one chicken-hearted to think of it."
Billy was shown into his cell and the door was locked. "Why—who are you?" said he, in surprise. For when his eyes got used to the darkness he discovered that he had a cell mate.
A shaven-headed, heavy-jawed egg yawned and sat up on the cake-of-ice cot he had been lying on.
"Me? I'm Boiled Egg."
"What—what have you done, sir?" said Billy, hoping it wasn't murder.
"That's the trouble," said Boiled Egg, sulkily; "I'm overdone—got into hot water last night and they arrested me for a hard character this morning. I believe the charge is salt and peppery."
"That's too bad," said Billy, sympathetically.
"It is that—but they'd better look out, or I'll turn into an Easter Egg and dye on their hands," said he, fiercely.
"Tap—tap—tap," came from the wall.