Evening Star Newspaper, January 13, 1924, Page 68

THE SUNDAY % s MR LML AN % %:E 3 great jute mill of the San Gregorio penitentiary was in full_ operation, To the cye everything in the mill was as usual, and yet the guards were restless and uneasy. Boston Bluckie, university graduate, student, safe-blower and international crook, looked up and glanced around the mill. Covert eves from a hundred looms were watching him with eager expeetancy. Boston Blackic leaped to the top ©of his loom, and flung up both arms, the signal of revolt. The looms stopped; their deafening noise ceased as If by magic. In three minutes the convicts were in complete control of the mill, barred in from outside assault Ly stecl doors and brick walls, Calmly, with srms folded, Boston Plackie stil] stood on his loom watch- tng the quick, complete fruition of his plans. ot he officers in San prison, Capt. Denison, head of the. il guards was hated most. When he | 1 into the circle of captiv Denison fell on d begged piteously for his 1ife. Boldn might have saved himi, cowardice doomed him. A conviet; with a wooden bludgeon in his hand leaped to his side and seized him by the throat. “We've got you now, curse you,” eried the volunteer executioner, “Tur- hey” Burch. “Pray, you dcg, pray! Do you remémber the night you sent me to the strait-jacket to please one of you rotten snitches? In just sixty seconds,” he snarled, “this club is go- 4ng to put you where you've put many a one of us.” A roar of approval came from the stripe-clad mob. Burch ralsed his club, swinging it about his head. Stop.” “Boston Blackie snatched the club from Burci's hand and flung it on the floor. said no blood, and that goes as it vs, Turkey,” he said quietly. Burch caught up his club again. Boston Blackie seized an iron bar from a man beside him. “All right” he said “Croak whenever you're ready, Turkey, when you kill him, I Kill you. Your move." The two convicts faced each other. Thirty tense seconds passed. “Why dom't you do something?” kie sald to Burch with a smile. Then he threw his iron bar to the fioor. P ontinued, turning 1o the crowd, “if we keep our heads, we win. If you want to pay for that coward's blood with your own, Deni- son die: But if he does, I quit you here and now. If you say so, he goes| med and we'll finish this business | as we began it—right. He turned to Burch, resolute with his club You're the What's the verdict? Burch hesitated, his club. “You've run this business so far, Biackfe,” he said slowly, “and 1 guess it's up to us to let you finish It in Your own wa: There a chorus of approval from the convict mob, ne!” sald Blackie. “I knew vou toys had sense. The first thing is to hoot our dear Taptain cut those doors, and 1 nominate Turkey Burch to do 16 Denison was drageed to the doors. Mhey were unbarred, and, propelied by Turkey Burch’s square-tocd brogan Capt, Denison shot through into the yard, where ke was under the p:otect ing rifies of the guards on the wall The other captives were treated sim Tl i i ! u Gregorio i a; him but s B standing ir-} ¢ vote, * he asked. then tossed aside Turkey. ke this message to Deputy Ware den Sherwood.” sald Blackie as the last of the bound bluecoats stood ready to be kicked out. “Tell him that unless within one hour he releases from Pun- fshment Hall the ten men he sent there yesterday for protesting against the rotten food, we're going to tear n his five-million-dollar mill. Now The man shot out. The doors were ‘banged shut and barred behind him, while the mill resounded with the yous shouts und songs of the con- viets. * KXk T)EPUTY WARDEN MARTIN SHER- WOOD, disciplinarian and real head of the prison management, took srim, silent. delight in inflicting pun- ishment. There was a réason for this strange twist in the character of a man ab: Jutely fearless and otherwise fair. Years before. he had brought a bride to his home just-outside the prison walls. She was pretty and young and weak—just the sort of girl the attrac- tion of opposites would send to a man Martin Sherwood. There were a fow months of happiness. Then came the crash. A conviet employed as a servent in the deputy’s home completed his sentenco and was veleased. With him went the deputy's wife. Krom that day Sherwood was a man unfeeling as iron. Martin Sherwood sat calmly smok- ing when Capt. Denison rushed in and tumbled into a chair. “They might as well have killed you in the mill as to send you up here to die of fright in my office,” the deputy said with biting sarcasm. “Deputy,” Denison warned, “those cons have a leader they obey like a resiment of soldiers. He ls—" “Boston Blackie, of course” inter- rupted Sherwood. “I should have Lnown better than to put him where he could come in contact with the men.” The guard who had been given the convict leader's ultimatum rushed in. “He says he wants the men out of Punishment Hall ard your promise of better food from now on or he'll tear the mil] down in an hour,” the man reported. The deputy warden turned to the men in the office. “I'm going Cown to the mill” he #a)d. “Have a machine gun ready in cach of the four towers that cqver this yard—ready but out of sight.” “Down to the mill?” cried Denison in amazement. “Deputy, you won't live five minutes. Don't go.” Sherwood took his knife and a roll of bills from his pocket ard locked them in his desk. “If I am not back i half an hour, Denison, call the warden at his club in San Francisco; tell him to call on the governor for a regiment of militia. But for the next half hour do nothing except get your nerve back—If you can.” Sherwood pulled a straw from a ‘whiskbroom on his desk, stuck it be- tween his teeth and started for the snfll yard as calmly as though he were &4ing to luncheons I The ‘White-faced guards tried to stay him. The uproar from within the mill was deafening. “Open the gates,” commanded Sher- wood. *Lock them behind me and don’t rcopen them again even if you think it's to save my life.” The deputy crossed the yard,| neither hurrying nor hesitating, and | hammered on the door with his fist. | The clamor Inside suddenly dled. “Open the door, boys” he com- manded. “I'm coming in to talk to you. I'm alone and unarmed.” ! The man on guard unbarred the door, and Martin Sherwood stepped quickly in and faced the mob. For five seconds that secmed an hour there was dead silence. It was broken by an inarticulate, unhuman, menacing roar of rage that rose to a scream. A man rushed at the deputy and spat in his face. Calmly Sherwood drew out his handkerchief and wiped his cheek, but never for an instant did his eyes waver from the inflamed ones of the man he faced. I'll remember that, Ke when T ou in the Jacket,” he said slowly. convict laughed, but pressed backward, cowed by the fearless as- surance of his antagonist. * ok % % BOSTON BLACKIE forced his way through the crowd. He was within ten feet of the deputy warden before he saw him. He caught the deputy by the shoulder and turned him toward the door. “Go,” he sald. “Get out before they kil you.” Sherwood threw off his hand. “You may be able to command this convict rabble, Blackie,” he said in a volco perfectly audible in the silence which had fallen on the mob, “but you can’t command me. I came to talic to these men, and I'm golng to do it From the rear came a metal weight which missed Sherwood's head by tuches. The screaming blood cry rose again. One struck at the deputy’s head with a shuttle, but Blackie hit first and lald the man senseless at his feet. Then he jumped to the top of a loom. “Men, if you want to hang,” ke cried, his voice rising above the bedlam, “I'll go along with you, if you'll listen to me first.” The optery dled down and Blackie talked to them. All through the harangue Sher- wood stood listening, his face inex- pressive. get said Blackle, turning to . “we have been told you sald you would keep the men in Punishment Hall in the straitjacket until they die, if necegsary, to find out who smuggled out thie letter complaining about the rotten food. Is that true?” “It is” said Sherwood. “We make three demands, then,” said Blackle: “First, the release of all the men undergoing punishment; sec- ond, your promise that no man con- cerned in this revolt shall be pun- ished; third, your guarantee that henceforth we get the food for which the state pays but which the com- missary captain steals.” “And If T refuse, what then?’ asked Sherwood. “At noon we will destroy the mil Boys,” sald the deputy, “I have listened to your spokesman. You know I can't grant your demands without consulting the warden, who is in San Francisco. I will do this, however: 1 will declaro a half -holi- day. Come over to the upper vard, have your dinner as usual and we'll all watch a ball game in the after- noon. Before night I will give you your answer.” With the thought of the machine guns and rifles that covered the upper vard in his mind, Sherwood smiled grimly. “Wait" cried Blackle. “When the men in Punishment Hall are free and you, Mr. Sherwood, who have never been known to lle, have told us we'll be fed right and no one harmed or punished for this morning’s work, we'll go into the upper yard—not Dbefore.” “Boys,” said the deputy, “do as T suggest. Why should you let this man”"—indicating Blackie—"“order you around. Comé on up to the yard, and Tl issue an extra ration of tobacco all round. Are you going to go along with me or stay here with him?* “Well, stay,” answered Blackle for the men. A shout from the men proved Sherwood's defeat. “You'ye quite a general, Blackie,” said the deputy. “I'll give you an answer in fifteen minutes. But"—he looked straight into Boston Blackie's eyes—*the next time you and I clash I'm going to break you like this.” He Jerked the straw from his mouth and twisted It apart. Then ho walked out of the mill. A quarter of an hour later ten pain- ¢ racked prisoners were welcomed back to the mill. With them came the deputy warden’'s acceptance of: Boston Blackle's terms. In the midst of the turbulent jollification -a half- witted, one-armed boy, micknamed “The Squirrel,” drew out his mouth- organ and tried to express his joy in the one way he knew. “Cut out the bum music burly convict. “Where d'y in this, you nutty Squirrel?” The boy's eyes filled wWith tears and his notes faltered. “Go ahead. Play, little Squirrel,” Boston Blackie sald encouragingly. “Good-bye, dear one,” he said. “I've You're one of us, you know, and we're all happ: That night Boston Blackie lay on his cell bunk anxiously probing the future. In his mind he still saw the broken bits of Martin Sherwood's brook straw fluttering to the mill floor. " eried a figger * k% ¥ 'ARY DAWSON never missed a visiting day at the San Gregorio penitentiary. On a bright Saturday afternoon Blackle hurried through the gates to the reception room, pass in hand. Mary sprang to his side, hands out- stretched. Thelr kiss was interrupted by the gruft voice of Ellls, the recep- tion room guard. “Wait a minute there, he commanded. “Who woman?" “Who Is she’ in amazement. wite!” “I know she has managed to slip in here on visiting day: 1ts sald, “but we're told she's an ex-con her- self. If so, she can't visit you. The rules don't permit it The man turned to Mary, Blackie?” is this " repeated the convict “Why, she is my LY BOSTON BLACKIE STRAIGHTENED HIS SHOULDEI T “Isn’t this your picture?” he asked | face was a sneeringly. Years before Mary Dawson, daugh- ter of Dayton Tom, a professional crook, had been sent to the peniten- tiary rather than clear herself at the expense of one of her father's pals. “It's my photograph,” she sald in a choked volce. “But, Mr. Ellis, I wasn't gullty. Don't take our visits away from us. They're—they're— all we—have." “That's what they all say,” the guard answered. “You're lucky the deputy don’t put the city dicks (de- tectives) on to vou." “Did the deputy tell you Mary from visiting me demanded of the guard “What's that to you?” the man an- swered. “She’s barred, that's all She's got nerve to come here any- way among decent women, the— Boston Blackie's blow caught him on the chin and Ellis toppled to the floor. In a second Blackie was upon him, grasping his throat in a frenzy of savagery. Women screamed, convicts shouted encouragement. Mary's voice, plead- ing, restored the convict to sanity. Blackie's ghip loosened. He took Mary in his arms. “Good-ble, dear one,” he sa e tried to get by here without trouble, but Sherwood won't let me. Watch and walt for me—some day I'll come.” Guards rushed in and one struck Blackie over the head with a club. TUnconscious, he was carrled to the deputy’s office. “Take him to punlshment hall and leave him there for tonight. Don't give him punishment—Til attend to that in the morning,” the deputy or- dered. to bar Blackie WP PRISON straftjacket is an instru- ment of most flendish torture. For the first few minutes, oppre- sed breathing is the only inconven- ience felt. Then the stagnating blood commences to cause pains as if white-hot needles are being passed through the flesh. Irresistible weights seem to be crushing the brain. Four hours in the jacket made one convict a paralytic for life. Some men have endured it for three-quar- ters of an hour without crying out, but only a few. Boston Blackle had been in the jacket for an hour and five minutes, and Martin Sherwood had walted in vain for pleas for release. The prison physician stood nearby, looking on anxiously. One man had died after the jacket had been used on Rim in San Gregorio. Blackie's l i I'J-("A Iy o BOSTON BLACKIE’S MARY TEET PR B el P B E PR e B SRl e PR S S P B R R G PR R P P T P P D P D L PO P R P PR T ST “TAKE ME AWAY.” oozed from his nostrils. He ghastly purple. Blood I Boston Blackle. He sent his runner, rolled | the half-witted, one-armed Squirrel, aimlessly to and fro on the floor, but | for the turnkey, to whom he explain- his lips were clenched. “He's had enough—more than enough, deputy,”" the doctor urged. “Better call it off?" ‘Never till he begs,” wood. The form on the floor ceased to roll and ftoss. The doctor stooped over sald Sher- | him. He's out,” he announced. ake him over to the hospital and bring - him round,” said the deputy warden. “We'll try it again tomor- row."” Hours later Boston Blackie, slow- Iy and painfully, came back Into a blurred and hideous world. “He didn’t break me,” he sald over and over to himeelf. “When Blackie gets out of the hos- pital, put him in charge of the lawn in front of my offices,” said Sher- wood to the assignment captain the following morning. It was the first time the captain had ever known the deputy to de- viate from his inflexible rule that a convict once sent to the jacket stayed until he begged for mercy. Martin Sherwood, from within his office, stood fixedly studying Boston Blackie, who was epraying the courtyard lawn. “He's ill, without a doubt,” mused the deputy warden. “The doctor's evidently right. No man could coun- terfelt his appearance; and yet— Sherwood’s brow was wrinkled with perplexi “Because he is Boston Blackie I'm puzzled. It's three months since I barred his wife from the prison and gave him the jacket. Why this calm?* Sherwood turned to his clerk. “Phone to the doctor to come over,” he sald. The physiclan protested strongly against the deputy warden’s order to transfer Boston Blackle from his cell in the hospital to one of the dormitories in the cellhouse, “The man's nothing but a 7living corpse now, deputy,” he argued. ‘“He isn't likely to live another three months. Let him die in the hospital.” “Move him over to C dormitory to- morrow morning,” Sherwood com- manded with finality. “I'm going to put him in with Tennesseo Red, Wwho'll keep me informed of what he does nights. I've got a hunch, doc- tor, that Mr. Boston Blackie is fram- ing another surprise-party for us.” The doctor went back to the hos. pital shaking his head at the strange vagaries of his superior concerning 10 tak ‘s intention. * ¥ ok % BOSTON Blackle was sitting in his dormitory cell slowly chewing the crust of a half-loat of bread when the Squirrel slipped by the turnkey into the cell. “They mustn’t know I'm here,” he said.s “I heard what the doctor told the screw (turnkey). They're going you away, out of the hos- ed the deputy" pital ““When, little Squirrel, Blackle whispered hoarsely. “Tomorrow, when the deputy gets a place ready for you with Tenn- essec Red,” the boy answered. “Wht else did the doctor say, little Sgulrrel?” he asked. ‘“He said the deputy thinks you are framing something, but it isn’t so be- cause you're going to die in three months. Are you going to dle in three morths. Blackie?" “No, mot in three months, little Squirrel,” answered Blackie, and then softly to himself he added: “but maybe tonight.” He turned again to the boy. “Will you play your mouth organ for me tonight, Squirrei?’ he asked. “Will you play it all the time from lock-up till the lights go out? All the time, Squirrel, and loud so I can hear it plain. Here's a sack of tobacco for you. You won't forget? All the time, and loud.” “Yes, all the time and loud,” the boy repeated, doglike devotion in his eyes. Blackie's plan for escape required that he sleep In the hospital dormi- tory used for tuberculosis patients and others unfit for the cell-houses but not bedridden. To accomplish this he diluted prison laundry soap, strong with lye, and drank It day after day until it ruined his stomach. Blackie had been in the hospital dormitory two months. He wasn't ready to make his bld for freedom, but must make the attempt that night or never. He took a spade an@ laboriously began to dig aroumd the rose bushes that flanked the lawn. No one saw kim uncover a rude saw made with his hoe file from a steel knife from the kitchen. The saw and a tobacco sack containing a single five-doilar bill were hidden in his blouse. The bill had come from Mary. Next he asked permission to air his blankets on the clothesline in the lower yard. The toolhouse in which when?" | ) g 1 AND HELD OUT HIS WRISTS FOR THE HANDCUFFS. “COME, COME,” HE URGED, I'is garden implements were kept was near by. Fiom boneath its floor he took a civilian palr of trousers, a hlue shirt and a mackinaw coat and a cap. It had taken him one full month to steal them from the tallor shop where the clothes of the new arrivals were kept after they Te- culved the prison stripes. Thé trous- ¢rs Dlackie put on under Lis striped jones, pinning up the legs well out cf sight. When his blankets went to his cell, the coat shirt and cap were hidden in them. half hour before lock-up time lackie rolled up his garden iooe and carried it to the toolhouse. Oncc within its doors and alone, he cut off six feet of the hose and wound it around his body, tylng it in place. Next from a pily of rubbish he un- eartned a single rubber glove. i'wo hundred feet of heavy twine from the mill completad the st of prep- arations. A7 5 oclock Boston Blaciie and the other hospital inmates were {locked In their cells for the night. At five minutes past 5 the Squirrel began to play on his mouth organ. Blackie chipped away the 50ap and lampblack with which he had plugged a half-sawed window bar and cut at it in frantic haste. A mirror hung on the wall near the docr. warned Blackic of the approach of the guard each time he made his rounds. Hour after hour the Squirrel played, and hour after hour Blackle sawed. The saw blade cut into his hands and tore his finger tips. Often it seemed as If he couldnt drive his tortured muscles another second. Sheer will power kept the saw mov- ing. At last it was done. * X ok ok The prison bell tolled out nine: the lights winked out and silence settled over the dor- mitory. . At 1 o'clock Blackle waited for the guard to pass, then slipped out of his convict clothes and fachioned them into dummy, which he covered with blankets to resemble a sleeping man. He dressed in his civillan eclothe with his six-foot length of hose still coiled about his body. He tucked his one glove carefully into his breast be- side the ball of twine, and hung the shoes about his neck. Then he pulled out one of the heavy legs of his stool and tied it across his back. He took another stool leg and, using it as a lever, bent the severed bars stralght out. A moment later he stood outside on the window ledge. Below him the wall fell away sheer for four storles. Six feet above his head the rain gutter marked the level ’of the flat roof. With fingers and toes few inches around the window coping he climbed upward. At last his fingers clutched the edge of the roof gutter. He swung his feet clear and raised himself to the roof by his arms. Blackle crept silently to the edge of the roof, nearest the wall, from which he was separated by a full hundred feet of space. Two glistening copper wires ran down from the roof at & sharp angle to a pole outside the wall above which they hung a full twenty feet. They were uninsulated, live wires which fed the prison machinery and lighting system with a current that was deqath to wheatever touched them. Blackie unwound the length of rub- ber hose from about his body. He laid the iinsulating rubber over the strands of shining metal. He bound and rebound the stool leg to the dangling ends of rubber that hung beneath them. Then he pulled out his ball of jute twine and attached it to & brick chimney; then seated himself on the bar of his improvised trapeze. With his back towand the wall, he swung clear of the roof and began his slide down the wires, regulating his speed with the cord on the chimney. The wires swayed and sagged but supported his weight. Yard by yard he let himself down. Suddenly the chimney cord snapped. Thé hose trapese ‘lhct downward. ‘With the hand covered with his rubber glove Blackle caught one of the wires and checksd his fall. Slowly he slid over the wall and down toward the pole. When its shadow warned him he had almost reached it. he slipped from his seat on the uspeze and dyopped. tcmmhln; the ‘bricks that jutted odt a BY JACK BOYLE. ‘ Story of Crook and Officer Who Faced Each Other With Courage in Scenes That Thrill SHROUDED in the early morning fog, & gaunt wralth of a ‘man climbed a rear stairway: to a tiny apartment on Laguna street, San Franclsco, and softly rapped at the bedroom window. The woman with- in awoke, sprang to the sash and threw it open, seizing In her arms the scarecrow of a man who stood there and dragging him tnside. “Mary!” he cried, “Blackle!” she answered. All the endearments of all the lan- guages of the world were in the two words. “We must get away from here at once,” Blackie sald. “The deputy warden's no ordinary copper. But, little sweetheart, I'll promise you this: Whether he finds us or not, he’ll never take Boston Blackle back to San Gregorio. Have you my guns?”’ Mary nodded, shuddering. , They crossed to the other side of the cit~ and rented a room on the edge of a good residence district. “Mary,” sald Blackie the moment they were alone, ve're safe here un- til tonight, but no longer. Go down- own o Levy's harical cosuming town to Levy's theatrical costuming shop. Tell them you're playing a grandmother’s part in an amateur play and get.a complete old woman's {outfit—white wig, clothes, shoes, “An hour aguw™ she mbped. “You starved him to death In your prison.” Sherwood strode to the bed, and, leaning over, lifted the sheet. Be- neath the sheet he saw a roll of blankets molded and tied into the semblance of a human form. Beforr he could turn, cold steel was presesd against the base of his brain. “Drop that gun, Sherwood,” Boston Blackie’s voico from belina him. “Drop it quick!” Sherwood emiled and let his revo!- ver slip through his fingers to the bed. Here was a worthy autagonist “Plck up his gun, Mary, and lay it on the table, well out of tho deputy’ way,” directed Blackie. “Then fce | he has another. Now,” he continued, “slip off these skirt “Now turn around, Sherwood, face the music,” ordered Blachie moment later. The deputy warden tor's eyes without a smiled “Well done, Blackle, mit,” he said. The convict’s grip on the gun Ie eled at the deputy’s head tightened “You understand, of course, She d, I've got to kill you,” ke said aturally it would me,” the deputy answered. was calm. met 1 tremor T must Wi R everything. Get a cheap hat and a working-girl's hand-me-down, too. Draw every dollar we have In the bank. You better bring something to eat, too—just a loaf of bread, for I ruined my stomach with lye and I can't eat anything but crusts.” He drew two revolvers from the sult sase, looked carefully to their loads and laid them on the bed. “T'm golng to sleep while you're gone. 1 didn't get much rest last night” he sald, smiling happily. At noon that day the police located Mary Dawson's Laguna street apart- ment. The chief called in a dozen of his best men, armed them and send them out In two autos. “Take no chances with him, boys, the chief warned. “He's a bad one. ‘Take care of yourselves.” When everything was ready the captain in charge of the expedition sent the landlady to the door with a phony letter, with four brawny men ready to selze whoever opened it. There was no response to repeated knocks. Finglly the landlady took a pass key and opened the door. “Gone,” chorused the detectives. On the third day a detective brought in the information that a landlady {dentified Blackle's picture as that of a man who came with his wife and rented a room on the morning of the escape. They had two sult cases. The next morning they had gone. “I thought eo,” Sherwood mused. “Boston Blackie won't stir from his place of refuge for weeks, maybe month: Sherwood turned the management of the prison over to a subordinate. The police frankly wers beaten. Only Sherwood kept at the task. “The doctor sald that illness was real,” he pondered. Blackie hadn't eaten anything but crusts of bread for weeks. He left the inside of a loak in his cell. Ah! The inside of a loat. Martin Sherwood sprang to his feet. “It's a long chance,” he said to him- self, “But it {5 a chanc * % * & THE deputy warden drove out to the city Incinerator and explained to the superintendent. “I'll pay the man who finds the crustless insides of loaves of bread in a garbage can $100 for the address from which that can was fllled.” “In three days, Mary, just three short days, we'll sail out through the Golden Gate. You and I will bs to- gether with a new world ahead.” Mary clung to him as he spoke. In three days the Colon salled for Cen- tral American ports. Their passage was paid. Once aboard the steamer and out of the harbor, they would be safe and free and unafraid, But just below them, low-voiced Martin Sherwood questioned their landlady. “I have no roomers but a Miss Col- lins and her mother, who is an in- valid, poor soul. They have the two rooms In the attic,” she was telling the deputy. “The girl is learning shorthand and don't go out much. The old lady Is crippled with rheu- matism and can't leave the rooms. Oh, they are nice, quiet, respectable people, sir.” “What does the girl look like? ‘What is the color of her hair?”’ Sher- wood asked. “Red, sir—a beautiful red.” Mary's hair was coal black. Martin Sherwood was puzzled. “When did they come here?” asked, “Why, let me see; it was a week ago Thursday, sir, in the evening. They came just before I went to work —which s 9 o'clock, sir.” “I would like to g0 up and see them for 2 moment,” Sherwood told the woman. “I'm gn officer.” He showed his star. “Oh, no, nothing wrong at all. T just want to see them. I llke to keep track of people in the dls- trict” “Certainly, sir. 1ine and— “No, no—that isn’t necessary,” In- terrupted Sherwood. *“I'll just step upstairs and knock.” ‘Though he tried to step lightly, there was a sudden shuffle of feet on the floor above. He rapped. A few seconds of slience. Then came the sound of @ woman sobbing hysterically. Sherwood knocked again peremptorily. The door was flung wide open and & woman faced him—a woman with & wealth of bronze hair that should have been black, but whom he in- stantly recognized as Boston Blackle's Mary. Martin Sherwood sprung inside with drawn revolver, ready to an- swer the stream of lead he expected from some corner of the room. Nome came. Instead he saw a woman, white-haired and feeble, sitting be- side a bed with bowed head, while her body shook with convulsive sobs. On the bed, covered with a sheet drawn up over the face, lay a silent, motioniess form. Sudden disappointment Martin Sherwood's heart. *“Where's Boston Blackie?” he de- ‘manded, his gun covering the room. Mary pointed silemtly to the still figure on the bed. “Dead!” exclaimed the deputy war- den.. “When? How?” | TI call Miss Col- gripped e THE men stared into each othe s eyes, the silence broken only i Mary's sobs. “You're a brave man, Sherwaod said Boston Bleckie. “T hate to ¥ you, but I've zot to do it. I can tie and gag y:u. You'd get freo ! fore we coul’ away from ti city. I can't ries that” *“Naturally not” said Sherwood. “I couldn’t trus: your promise ro to bother me 1f I let you go allve continued Blackle with troubled eve« “I wouldn't glve it if you did" There was no hesitation in the ar swer. “Well, then"—the gun that cov ered the deputy warden's head swayed downward until the muzzle covered his heart—"are you ready?” “Any time,” said Sherwood. Mary Dawson, crying hystericall: turned away her face and covered her ears. “Do you want to go, Mary, before I—1 do what I must do2” asked Blackie. “No, no!” she cried. “I want to share with you 2il blame for what you do."” Sherwood turned his s cur ously on the woman. He knew what he would have risked for such woman and such love. Slowly the convict let of his weapon drop. “Sherwood.” he said 2 brok: voice, “I hate you as I hate no liv ing man, but T can't kill you as you stand before me, unarmed and help less” He stepped backward picked up the deputy warden's volver. He pushed a table betw them. He laid the revolvers side by £ide on It, one pointing toward him, the other toward Sherwood. “Sherwood.” he sald, “In three utes that clock will strike. I'm ex actly as far from the guns as vo On the first siroke of the clock w reach together for them—and th. quickest hand win Martin Sherwood studied Bosto: Blackle's face with something in Dis eves no other man had ever see there. Blackie deliberately had sur rendered his advantage to give him Martin Sherwood, an even chance fo life. For the first time the Qeput: was shaken. “f wen't bargain Blackie,” he said. “YYou'se afraid to risk an break? ¥You know I'm not,” Sherwood swered. Foston Blackie reached toward his gun hoping 1he deputy warden woui do likewise. Sherwood let Black recover his weapon without movine: a muscle. Once more the convict's revolver rose till it covered Martin Sherwood's heart. Seconds passed, then minutes, with:- out a word or a motion. The muscles ©of the convict's throat twitched. “Pick up that gun and defend vou selt,” he cried. 0, shouted Sherwood. With a great cry Boston Blacki. threw his gun upon the floor. “You win, Sherwood,” he sobbed “You've beaten me.” He staggered drunkenly towaré Mary and folded her in his arms. “I couldn’t do 1{t” he moaneh brokenly. 11 go back with him.. Everything is over.” ‘Tm glad you dldn't, dear™ @'r cried, clinging to him. “It would . been murder. I'll walt for you, dear one, wait till you come back to me again.” the muzzlc with ¥o * & ¥ % OSTON BLACKIE straightened his shoulders and turning to Sher- wood, held- out his wrlsts for the handcufts. “Come, come,” he urged. “Don't stand there gloating. Take me away. Martin Sherwood reached to the table, picked up his gun slowly and dropped it into his pocket. He looked into the two grief-racked faces be- fore him, long and silently. 'm sorry to have disturbed you folks” he sald quietly at last. I came here looking for an escaped convict named Boston Blackie. 1 have found only you, Miss Coilins, and your mother. I'm sorry my mis- information has subjected you both to annoyance. The police officers who surround the house will be with- ldrawn at once. Had Boston Blackie been in this room, and had he by some mischance killed me, his shot would have brought a dozen armed men. Escape for him was absolutely impossible. But it has all been a blunder, and I can only hope my apology will be accepted.” l Blackie stared at him with unbe- )eving eyes. From Mary came a cry of sudden rellef. “Good night, folks” sald Martin Sherwood, offering Boston Blackie his hand. The convict caught it in his own, and the men looked into each other's eyes for a second. Then the deputy warden went out and closed the door behind him. *“He is a man” said Blackie. “He is & man even though he's a copper.” Martin Sherwood looked back at the windows of the attic rooms and spoke softly to himself. “He is & man” he sald. “He is a man, even though he is a convict.” Cogyright, 1824,