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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 09, 1917, LAST EDITION, Image 20',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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spiting his brother. Truly the -wheels '
of justice were grinding very smau.
He did not start to work as a lifer
immediately. Prostrated by these
eventSi James Cass found his way to
the prison hospital. And, as he lay
there there came into his head the
wild hope that, just as he had prom
ised to free his brother at the end
of a year, so his brother would set
It was on the fifth day of his so
journ there that the governor called.
Horace had spent all his money, and,
taking the bull by the horns, had
gone boldly to the penitentiary and
announced himself. The warden,
who had heard rumors of the gov
ernor's disappearance, admitted him
at once to the infirmary.
"Well, here I am, Horace," said
James Cass, seating himself by the
Horace smiled, but the man in the
bed looked at him with the utmost
malignancy. Horace drew a paper
from his pocket
"This is your pardon, dated a year
ahead," he said. "What do I get for
"Get for it?" echoed James.
"You've got the hold on me," said
Horace sullenly. "I can't imitate
your handwriting. Odd that our
writing should be so dissimilar when
we are so alike in everything else,
even in character. See here, James,
I'll set you free at once and let you
take up your job immediately, if you
will sign this check for a hundred
The sick man raised himself in the
bed. "No you don't, Horace," he an
swered blandly. "You got me, but
you didn't make quite such a good
bargain as you expected to. Here is
"The rumors of the governor's dis
appearance must be public property
by now. If I disappear more than
two or three days longer I'll De as
good as dead. When I come back
there will be all sorts of questions
. raised. Maybe they'll doubt my
sanity. Anyway, I won't be able to
keep control of my own money.
If you sign a paraon ior me at
once, so that I can go out tomorrow
I'll give you ?3,000. That's all. If
you don't sign it, youll get nothing.
I may rot in jail here for the rest of
my life, but that won't help you any.
What do you say."
"Five thousand," urged the other.
"It's yours," replied the visitor
It is queer what freaks imagina
tion plays with a man. All this scene
ran through the head of the honor
able James Cass, governor, of the
state, as he entered the cell in which
his brother lay, under sentence of
death. James Cass, the most upright
of all governors since American his
tory began, looked at the wreck be
"You wrote to me, Horace, that
less I commuted your sentence you
would betray the fact of our relation
ship," he said. "I have tried not to
consider this threat and to judge
your case solely on its- merits. I
have done so. I find extenuating
circumstances in the 'fact that when
we were boys I did not watch over
you as I should have done. I let you
go your way, absorbed in my inter-
ests. Nature was against you, Hor
ace. But I find I can conscientiously
commute your sentence. You will
be imprisoned for life, and later I
I shall consider the possibility of
changing it to twenty years.
(Copyright, 1917, W. G. Chapman.)
. o o '
VOCATIONAL TEST ,
"I gave thati youngster of mine a
top printing press, a steam engine, a
xylophone, a box of paints and some ,.
other things to find out whether his
tastes were artistic, mechanical, lit
erary or what but the test didn't '
"Why, what did he do with them?
x "Smashed them all up."
"Why. man. it's as clear as day i
i he's going to be a furniture mover."