Evening Star Newspaper, June 7, 1931, Page 85

. eause I've given every ounce of my energy and my thought to this one thing.” She didn't reply to that. “I had to work it out. Show you. I'm still at it.” ¢ “I don't know why I listen to you.” . . . She was downright angry. Bitter, even. Her always mMusical voice was unsteady. “Surely, you wouldn’t say you'd shown a decent con- sideration for your friends.” She stopped ab- ruptly. coloring. With a muttered, “Oh, it's grotesque!” she simply turned then and hurried away. He watched her go. A man met her, over by the newsstand. Some one had seemed to remem. ber. They went into the restaurant. It was curiously moving. He felt all torn up. And a little guilty about having Barbara Betts for luncheon. That was absurd, of course, Why shouldn’t he? Shortly after, she came. Quietly observing her across the table, he thought of the poor little suite. There was something more than bubbles in that birdlike brain. There was ~ourage. He liked that. And he liked her. . . . He'd been lonelier than anybody knew. She seemed like an old friend. . . . He could see Mildred and that other fellow having lunch. Now he remembered—Jim Wills. She was vivacious. She didn’t once look around. And he felt a twinge of jealousy. That was rather funny, too. N Mr. Sweeney Todt the Cahoon-Wilbur bout burst as a flash of something like what paradise should be. The papers had come around at last. Little Betts went to some of Wilbur's gymnasium workouts and wrote enthusiastic columns. Mr. Todt's only regret was that Wilbur made him drop the “Terrible Tim” line. But it didn't seem to matter. Wilbur went bigger than Burke ever hzd. The ring was set up in the bigger of the two ball parks. When Mild:ed, guided rather anx- fously by Jim Wills, made her way through the rows and rows of ringside seats to a place near the front, a preliminary bout was on. She'd quite insisted on coming. Said it would be so amusing. In the ring two giants were struggling in and out of holds. Somebody was waving. Mildred caught her breath. It was her brother Thorny. He hadn‘t said he was coming. And she'd pledged the reluctant Jim to secrecy. Then she saw the older brother, Rex. There they were, large as life. She could only laugh it off. But she was flushing. It was after 10. There was a long pause. ‘Then she saw him. Coming down an aisle. A blond handsome head and a blue robe. And how the crowd yelled! Another roar. A mountainous man ap- proached. The champion. Rough Red Cahoon. A lowering red gorilla of a man. More bally- hoo. Bawled introductions and more bows. The final instructions from the referee, at mid- ring. Robes off! Gecrge was beautiful, a lithe young giant. But the champion was & monster. Mildred shivered. Jim was trying to be heard—"out- weighs George by fully 50 pounds.” She caught that. . The gong! They were at it, coolly groping. No acrobatics. Not now. Not yet. Just that cautious slow pawing. A tension. Mildred found herself on the edge of her chair. Her breath was short, her knees shaking. A sudden roar. Something . . . she couldn’t quite see . . . slowly, in a terrific matching of strength against strength, George seemed to be twisting that red, round head. They drop- ped. . Jim, beside her, was yelling . . . Now he had that head firmly within his arm, and was iying on it. A rough voice yelled, “Look out for his legs, Tim!” There was a sudden twist. The big legs were clamped like a vise about George, feet locked, squeezing. “He cracks ribs, that Cahoon!” this was Jim. *Break it, George! Break it! Get his toe!” Another quick movement. Cahoon, strain- ing those massive legs, caught an arm and twisted it. George lay still. Mildred was fight- ing to keep her eyes up. She saw George's twisted hand slowly turning white. Now he was moving. Slowly. Moving. He got a knee under him. Cahoon strained and strained. But George was straining, too. Now he had both knees under him. He seemed to be rising. Inch by inch. Lifting the clamped legs and the huge body with him. His arm was free. The roar of the crowd was a din. A great wave of sound. Mildred was getting used to it. It swept you up . . . George, erect, was whirling Cahoon round and round. The legs let go. The giant slid under the ropes and stayed out there until the referee hauled him back. Mildred found herself on her feet. Everybcdy was up. Jim was shouting hoarsely. Suddenly, like a streak of light, George dove; caught Cahoon squarely amidships and drove him back against the ropes. They were all up ag:in. Jim was losing his voice. Cahoon crouched, covering his stomach with his arms. Kept by the ropes, sidling along. He didn’t want that catapult to hit him again, His face was contorted. George, crouching too, drew closer. Cahoon sidled and backed. George crouched lower. Was he going to dive again? Cahoon was almost bent double. Jim yelled with glee: “See him covering up? See the champ covering up?” George, with that same amazing quickness, shot into the air. Fairly sailed. His legs clamped about the red head. Down they went. But George had that head. His feet were locked. Cahoon writhed. Twisted. Threw himself this way and that. Clear across the ring they floundered. But George hung on. Mildred gave out. Sank back in her chair and weakly covered her face. Nobody noticed her. Not even this maniac beside her who'd thought she oughtn't to come. She pulled her hands slowly down and looked again just as George broke a hold, spun around and dove. This time Cahoon went down with & crash. But he had enough wit left to wriggle under the ropes. George was hot after him, but the referee hauled him off. Cahoon reeled and caught at the ropes as he rose outside. The referee waved him in. But he took his time. A roar of jeers and catcalls went up. Catcalls for the champion? He had to come in. Still reeling. Crouching and covering up. George was on him like a ball from a gun. Caught his head, gave it & wrenching twist. Cahoon staggered and fell. When be finally. rose, George .snapped that big ~ THE® SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JUNE 2 198E. head again. Again Cahoon went down. Slowly up again. But he was out on his feet. George gave the drunken head a last toss and then, as he sank, pinned the massive shoulders to the canvas. That was for the first fall. Twenty-two min- utes and 14 seconds. They were yelling out the time. Mildred saw her brothers, Thorny and Rex, fairly lifeting George from the ring. Slap- ping his back. Hugging him. It was pretty bewildering. Now she saw other women. That little Miss Betts was down by the ring with the newspaper folk. She looked very gay and bright . . . Here came Rex, followed by Thorny. “What do you know?” he was shouting. . . . “Within half an hour that boy’ll be champion!” Perversity stirred in Mildred’s disturbed mind. Bhe said, rather tartly, “What of it?” “What of it? My gosh, Mil, he'll be a mil- lionaire!” A millionaire. Funny! That bolshevik out- break of George's, a long time - ago. “Trick stuff! Sell your personality!” “I know what's important. I'll.show you.” They were at it again. Reaching and paw- ing and mauling. Strength against strength. Cahoon wasn't through. Not yet. They tumbled and crashed. Headlocks, arm- locks, quarter Nelsons, body scissors and head scissors. Toe holds that looked agonizing. Ca- hoon it was, toward the end, who clapped on Abruptly she leaned out on the type- writer. Looked straight at him. “W ho on earth are you?” the head scissors and held it a long time. When George got out of that he looked groggy. Felt for the ropes and dropped to one knee. Cahcon stood over him, hands clasped, beating sharply on the back of the neck. “The occipital blow,” rasped Jim. “It's fierce!” George, cov- ering with his hands, glanced weakly around at the referee, as if ifl protest. What happened then, the end of it, was too quick for Mildred. Jim reviewed it hoarsely in the limousine, riding home. “You'd 'a’ said he was in. Simply in. Kneeling there with his back to the ropes. . . . Just as Cahoon raised his hands to hit him again, George comes up into his stomach . . . Wow! Listen, Mil, when Cahoon hit the floor he was clean across the ring—and out! . . . And little old George Wil- bur's champion of the world!” R. PIERCE, the father of Mildred, Thorny and Rex, felt that he could do no less than call in person for the boy. It was some- thing of a luncheon party. Smiling, prosperous, correct people, all playing up to George Wil- bur. Mr. Plerce (urbanity itself) remarked: “Well, George, you've got everything in your hands now. It must be a wonderful sensation.” “Not for long,” said George quietly. Mildred was watching him. She hadn't sald a word. “You don't mean you're going to give it up, George?” asked Mr. Pierce. .3 “In one year. If I can hold it that long.* “Ycu are? And what then?” “I was working at writing.” He felt ghy, like a‘child. “I shall go back to that. Fight it out!” 1 “Writing? How interesting!"” “This wrestling, of course, is rather gro- tesque.” He said that without thinking. Then ke caught the flash in Mildred’s eyes. “I onlv went into it because I felt I could do it. It treemed worth the try.” The moment with Mildred seemed alinost arranged. The men all had to dash.back to their offices. He~ was about to go, too, when Mrs. Pierce left them together, And neither of them seemed to have anything to say. He'd dreamed of such a momnent. A triumph. Now, all at once it didn’t matter. When she did speak, he didn't know how to take it. She couldn’'t hide her emotion and she didn't try. She looked up at him. “Well, George . . . haven't I been punished enough?” 3 He could have gathered her right up in FLis arms. She'd surrendered. “The remotely de- sirable Mildred! But the whole thing had gone unreal. The Pierces were unreal. Too easy. Just because he’'d tossed Rough Cahoon! . . . She said one thing more (he couldn’'t believe his ears): “Aren’t you being just a little cru<l, George?” He? Cruel? To her? . . . Good heavens! Topsy-turvydom! But a flash came. He saw his way. It was all out of his own controlL He'd been driven. He'd never felt so forlorn, But that was how it was. You dove into things. And they changed and changed you. He took her hand. “It's besn awfully mice seeing you. Good luck!” He had to get away fast after that. This hurry was unacccuntable. Driving him. Get away from people. Except one. One who, too, had dived into crazy reality. Courage. . . . E called up from a drug store. Tears came into his eyes as he climbed the four flights of musty, dim stairs. Barbaira opened the door and chuckled as she pressed back against the wall to let him into the crowded little living room. “Well, and how’s the great champion? . . , I'm bursiing with pride!” He stood on the worn rug, bending his head aside to avoid the chandelier. “You and I have played around some, Bar- bara.” It sounded like a charge. “Do you like me?"” What a question! Couldn't answer. “Will you marry me?” She sank down on the sofa. She'd gone white. His abrupt question opcned a bright vista that the eyes of her mind, trained to a sort of dark- ness, couldn’t face. She began to cry. He came over and sat beside her. Touched her frail shoulder with a shy, uncertain hand. Added, as if he thought, in some unbelivably apologetic way, that he was explaining some- thing—“We do like the same things, you know.” . . . So she cried on him. p (Copyright, 1931.) She was all afjutter. New Federal Penitentiary to Solve Serious Prison Problem. Continued from Fifth Page in number and housing only one inmate to the room, will have barred windows and steel doors, but will open into corridors instead of galleries. There will be no *“dog holes” or “dungeons” at Lewisburg, as the small, narrow, dark solitary confinement cells used at other institutions for severest punishment are termed in the prison vernacular. There will be three buildings containing “out- side” rooms and housing 270 men to the unit, in which prisoners, whose deportment and record indicate they will not spend every hour plan- ning how to escape will be placed upon leaving quarantine. The windows in this building will be barred, but will give out upon open areas rather than into inclosed or walled-in courts. And instead of steel gates each room will have & door. These doors will be unique in con- struction. They will look like ordinary wooden doors, but will consist of oak panels laid over sheet steel to furnish security and yet conform with the plan of making these rooms appear as unlike a prison cell as possible. On every floor of these buildings there will be a recreation room which will be opened to the men at certain hours of each day. The next step the prisoner will take if his record shows good behavior and indicates that he can live at peace with his fellows will be to the open dormitory or barracks type of building. ‘This group comprises four buildings of three stories each, housing 50 men to the floor. It is evident that before the men are housed in such large groups they will have been expected to show considerable progress, and the benefits and effectiveness of the new system will have begun to be revealed. URING their stay in prison the men will be given opportunity to attend school, voca- tional training classes and work in the prison industries or on the farm, and their ambition, their willingness to work and their progress in these endeavors will play an important part in the lessening of their restrictions and in their assignment to more desirable quarters. Lewisburg will be the first Federal peniten- tiary to erect a model school building where classes will be held regularly and where every facility for a simple academic education will be provided. There will also be a large library in connection with the institution and a spacious auditorium for instructive lectures and enter- tainment purposes. It will not be such a long jump from the open dormitories to the “honor dormitories” for those prisoners who show the greatest im- provement of character. These will consist of small dormitories subdivided into small wards housing four men to the ward, where for the first time the prisoner might look through un- barred windows and feel that he is -definitely nearing the end ‘of his term. «Here he will- face his first real test. His reactions to a very material lessening of restrictions will be care- fully observed and duly noted. He will have become an “honor man.” He will have won trust. Finally the prisoner at Lewisburg will be assigned to a building consisting of rooms ap- proximating the living quarters of normal persons. In this “senior hall” of the institu- tion it will be difficult for him to realize that he is in prison. He will not have to look out through barred windows, no steel door will give him the sense of being caged in. In this build- ing he will have a private room, 11 feet long by 6 feet 6 inches wide, with comforts and con- veniences that he did not enjoy in any other part of the institution. He will have his own key to come and go as he pleases within the bounds of the ordinary prison routine. When his term ends the prisoner at Lewis- burg will not be turned out from a drab con- fining cell to sudden freedom with a grim recollection of long incarceration and an em- bittered attitude toward society. Instead he will be given a try at freedom before he leaves to engender self-reliance and self-respect. While in this “senior hall” he will receive his “diploma,” a clean bill bearing testimony to good behavior and improved character, earned by his own efforts and entitling him to a fair chance anywhere in the world. But while the new system at Lewisburg may seem less rigid, the importance of maintaining discipline has not been lost sight of, according to Director Bates. “With all these new plans under way,” he states, “insistence has been had upon the strict performance by guards and other employes of the difficult tasks laid upon them, and wardens are repeatedly advised that our institutions are places for the rigorous discipline of the inmates. Anything which savors of favoritism, improper privileges or deviation from the strict carrying out of the sentence of the court has been promptly and effectively acted upon.” It is a far ery from the early forms of eriminal punishment, which included torture and the dungeon, to a prison of the type of Lewisburg. Yet there are criminologists who in view of the increase in major crime in this country are of the opinion that the new system is too easy and who advocate even sterner metheds than those now in force. Some even urge the return of the whipping post and are inclined to doubt the efficacy of a plan such as will be carried out at Lewisburg. Arguments pro and con have been heard, months have been spent in intensive study of prison systems, some of the world’s greatest criminologists and prison authorities have added their voices to the question, public opinion has been aroused and public debate has waxed warm, but when the matter of the new prison ‘system at Lewisburg was placed beéfore Congress It was pointed out conclusively that cog- nizance must be taken of the various types of criminals, and that the indiscriminate mixing of these types, such as occurs in most of our present overcrowded penitentiaries, is a faulty and dangerous practice. HE new Federal penitentiary will be the American Government’s answer to an in- adequate and intolerable prison system—a system that has made possible such disastrous rebellions as the mutiny and fire in the Ohio State Penitentiary (where 4,300 prisoners were housed in accommodations designed for 1,500), which resulted in the burning to death of 318 men; the Colorado State Prison mutiny, in which 7 guards and 5 prisoners were killed and dozens of others wounded; the riot at Dannemora Prison, in New York (where only the most desperate criminals are housed), in which 3 were killed; the otubreak at the New York State Prison, where 2 were killed, 11 wounded and 4 escaped; the uprising at the Federal penitentiary at Leavenworth, where 1 was killed and 3 injured, and other serious riots which have occurred in the past two years. - There will be no crowding at Lewisburg. With the exception of the dormitories all prison rooms will be constructed to house a single occupant, and these will be larger than the cells built to hold two and made to hold four and even eight under crowded conditions in existing penitentiaries. The four-man ward in the honor dormitories will measure 17 feet 4 nches by 13 feet 6 inches, as compared with rooms of the same size now housing eight men at the Leavenworth and Atlanta penitentiaries. The space alloted per man at Lewisburg will be 60 square feet, which closely approximates the 67 square-foot standard space requirements of the Army and Navy. And there will be no large grouping together of men at the new Federal penitentiary at any time. A specially constructed mess hall has been designed in four sections to eliminate this and to avoid the mixing together of prisoners of different class groups under the new system. Alfred Hopkins, architect for the Lewisburg Penitentiary, inspected all of the pr in this country and in Europe to obtain ideas for the new prison, and it is believed that from & standpoint of construction it will set a new world standard for penal institutions. Despite the many new angles tha' had t» be taken into consideration and the diversified facilities provided, the economy effected in an at the Ohio State Penitentiary, 000 to $6,000 per man Auburn, N. Y.