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these beaten； feverish men lay seven hours without water。
At nine the guards arrived。 There were not many of them。 There was
no need for many； because they unlocked only one dungeon at a time。
They were equipped with pick…handlesa handy tool for the
〃disciplining〃 of a helpless man。 One dungeon at a time； and
dungeon by dungeon； they messed and pulped the lifers。 They were
impartial。 I received the same pulping as the rest。 And this was
merely the beginning； the preliminary to the examination each man
was to undergo alone in the presence of the paid brutes of the
state。 It was the forecast to each man of what each man might
expect in inquisition hall。
I have been through most of the red hells of prison life； but； worst
of all； far worse than what they intend to do with me in a short
while； was the particular hell of the dungeons in the days that
followed。
Long Bill Hodge； the hard…bitten mountaineer； was the first man
interrogated。 He came back two hours lateror； rather； they
conveyed him back； and threw him on the stone of his dungeon floor。
They then took away Luigi Polazzo； a San Francisco hoodlum； the
first native generation of Italian parentage； who jeered and sneered
at them and challenged them to wreak their worst upon him。
It was some time before Long Bill Hodge mastered his pain
sufficiently to be coherent。
〃What about this dynamite？〃 he demanded。 〃Who knows anything about
dynamite？〃
And of course nobody knew； although it had been the burden of the
interrogation put to him。
Luigi Polazzo came back in a little less than two hours； and he came
back a wreck that babbled in delirium and could give no answer to
the questions showered upon him along the echoing corridor of
dungeons by the men who were yet to get what he had got； and who
desired greatly to know what things had been done to him and what
interrogations had been put to him。
Twice again in the next forty…eight hours Luigi was taken out and
interrogated。 After that； a gibbering imbecile； he went to live in
Bughouse Alley。 He has a strong constitution。 His shoulders are
broad； his nostrils wide； his chest is deep； his blood is pure； he
will continue to gibber in Bughouse Alley long after I have swung
off and escaped the torment of the penitentiaries of California。
Man after man was taken away； one at a time； and the wrecks of men
were brought back； one by one； to rave and howl in the darkness。
And as I lay there and listened to the moaning and the groaning； and
all the idle chattering of pain…addled wits； somehow； vaguely
reminiscent； it seemed to me that somewhere； some time； I had sat in
a high place； callous and proud； and listened to a similar chorus of
moaning and groaning。 Afterwards； as you shall learn； I identified
this reminiscence and knew that the moaning and the groaning was of
the sweep…slaves manacled to their benches； which I heard from
above； on the poop； a soldier passenger on a galley of old Rome。
That was when I sailed for Alexandria； a captain of men； on my way
to Jerusalem 。 。 。 but that is a story I shall tell you later。 In
the meanwhile 。 。 。 。
CHAPTER IV
In the meanwhile obtained the horror of the dungeons； after the
discovery of the plot to break prison。 And never； during those
eternal hours of waiting； was it absent from my consciousness that I
should follow these other convicts out； endure the hells of
inquisition they endured； and be brought back a wreck and flung on
the stone floor of my stone…walled； iron…doored dungeon。
They came for me。 Ungraciously and ungently； with blow and curse；
they haled me forth； and I faced Captain Jamie and Warden Atherton；
themselves arrayed with the strength of half a dozen state…bought；
tax…paid brutes of guards who lingered in the room to do any
bidding。 But they were not needed。
〃Sit down；〃 said Warden Atherton； indicating a stout arm…chair。
I； beaten and sore； without water for a night long and a day long；
faint with hunger； weak from a beating that had been added to five
days in the dungeon and eighty hours in the jacket； oppressed by the
calamity of human fate； apprehensive of what was to happen to me
from what I had seen happen to the othersI； a wavering waif of a
human man and an erstwhile professor of agronomy in a quiet college
town； I hesitated to accept the invitation to sit down。
Warden Atherton was a large man and a very powerful man。 His hands
flashed out to a grip on my shoulders。 I was a straw in his
strength。 He lifted me clear of the floor and crashed me down in
the chair。
〃 Now；〃 he said； while I gasped and swallowed my pain； 〃tell me all
about it； Standing。 Spit it outall of it； if you know what's
healthy for you。〃
〃I don't know anything about what has happened 。 。 。〃； I began。
That was as far as I got。 With a growl and a leap he was upon me。
Again he lifted me in the air and crashed me down into the chair。
〃No nonsense； Standing；〃 he warned。 〃Make a clean breast of it。
Where is the dynamite？〃
〃I don't know anything of any dynamite；〃 I protested。
Once again I was lifted and smashed back into the chair。
I have endured tortures of various sorts； but when I reflect upon
them in the quietness of these my last days； I am confident that no
other torture was quite the equal of that chair torture。 By my body
that stout chair was battered out of any semblance of a chair。
Another chair was brought； and in time that chair was demolished。
But more chairs were brought； and the eternal questioning about the
dynamite went on。
When Warden Atherton grew tired； Captain Jamie relieved him； and
then the guard Monohan took Captain Jamie's place in smashing me
down into the chair。 And always it was dynamite； dynamite； 〃Where
is the dynamite？〃 and there was no dynamite。 Why； toward the last I
would have given a large portion of my immortal soul for a few
pounds of dynamite to which I could confess。
I do not know how many chairs were broken by my body。 I fainted
times without number； and toward the last the whole thing became
nightmarish。 I was half…carried； half…shoved and dragged back to
the dark。 There； when I became conscious； I found a stool in my
dungeon。 He was a pallid…faced； little dope…fiend of a short…timer
who would do anything to obtain the drug。 As soon as I recognized
him I crawled to the grating and shouted out along the corridor：
〃There is a stool in with me； fellows！ He's Ignatius Irvine！ Watch
out what you say！〃
The outburst of imprecations that went up would have shaken the
fortitude of a braver man than Ignatius Irvine。 He was pitiful in
his terror； while all about him； roaring like beasts； the pain…
racked lifers told him what awful things they would do to him in the
years that were to come。
Had there been secrets； the presence of a stool in the dungeons
would have kept the men quiet； As it was； h