The Man Behind the Bars

by Winifred Louise Taylor

"I have been fairly devouring Seneca, Montaigne, Saadi, Marcus Aurelius, Rochefoucauld, Bacon, Sir Thomas More, Shelley, Schopenhauer, Clodd, Clifford, Huxley, Spencer, Fiske, Emerson, Ignatius Donnelly, Bryan, B. O. Flower, J. K. Hosmer, and a host of lesser lights." Of Emerson he says: "We are friends. It was a great rise for me and a terrible come-down for him. I've done nothing but read, think, talk, and dream Emerson for two weeks, and familiarity only cements our friendship the stronger. It must have taken some extraordinary high thinking to create such pure and delightful things. He uplifts one into a higher atmosphere and carries the thought along on broad and liberal lines. Instead of making one look down into the gutter to see the reflection of the sky, he has us look up into the sky itself." In hours of depression this man sought the companionship of Marjorie Fleming. Truly he understood the value of the old advice: "To divert thyself from a troublesome fancy 'tis but to run to thy bookes." And to think of that dear Pet Marjorie winging her way through the century and across the sea to cheer and brighten the very abode of gloom and despair! No desire had this man to read detective stories—he lived them—his life out of prison was full of excitement and escapade. When seasons of reflection came he turned to something entirely different; and were not the forces working upward within him as vital and active as the downward tendencies?

However that may be, neither Dick Mallory nor I succeeded in getting any firm grip on that mercurial being; but he never tried to impose on either of us, was always responsive to my interest in him, and found a chance to do me a good turn before he disappeared from my horizon in a far western mining district where doubtless other adventures awaited him. Dick Mallory always regarded Sam with warm affection, and his clear-cut personality has left a vivid picture in my memory.

I find that Dick Mallory was the centre from which radiated more of my acquaintances in the prison than from any one other source. His mind was always on the alert regarding the men around him, and he was always on the lookout for means of helping them. In one of our interviews his greeting to me was:

"There are two Polish boys here that you must see; and you must do something for them."

"Not another prisoner will I get acquainted with, Dick," was my reply. "I've more men on my list now than I can do justice to. I've not time for another one."

"It makes no difference whether you have time or not, these boys ought to be out of here and there's nobody to get them out but you," said Dick in a tone of finality.

I saw instantly that not only was the fate of the Polish boys involved, but my standing in the opinion of Mallory; for between us two was the unspoken understanding that we could count on each other, and Dick knew perfectly well that I could not fail him. Nothing in all my prison experience so warms my heart as the thought of our Polish boys. Neither of them was twenty years of age; they were working boys of good general character, and yet they were serving a fifteen-year sentence imposed because of some technicality in an ill-framed law.

My interview with the younger of the boys was wholly satisfactory. I found him frank and intelligent and ready to give me every point in his case. But with the older one it was different; he listened in silence to all my questions, refusing any reply. At last I said: "You must answer my questions or I shall not be able to do anything for you." Then he turned his great black velvet eyes upon me and said only: "You mean to do me some harm?" What a comment on the boy's experience in Chicago courts! He simply could not conceive of a stranger seeking him with any but a harmful motive. And we made no further progress that time, but when I came again there was welcome in the black velvet eyes, and with the greeting, "I know now that you are my friend," he gave me his statement and answered all my questions.

Now it seemed impossible that such a severe sentence could have been passed on those boys without some just cause. But I had faith in Dick Mallory's judgment of them, and my own impressions were altogether favorable; furthermore, my good friend the warden was convinced that grave injustice had been done.