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V- s* [The Armstrong drama, of which tbe following la CHAPTER I. THE guilty of a crime. Anu uo more reas suring could be termed the abrupt, dominating personage who presided over the dismal destinies of the office and institution when occurred the •vents chrouided in tiiis narrative. That a rnau fated by his choice of occupation 10 daiiy associate intimate ly with criminals of high and low de gree and to come constantly in per sonal contact wi:h all tbe misery and depravity going to form the life of state's prison —that a man so fated should ami exquisite enjoyment in ac centuating tiiese depressing conditions is surely a contradiction of what ordi narily would be expected. Humans of norma! mold are generally occupied in ameliorating the evils and annoyances Jimmy Valentine ri #\S.. Novelized by FREDERICK R. TOOMBS From the Great Play by PAUL ARMSTRONG Copyright, I9IO. by American Preu Association JIMMY VALENTINE, WABDEN HANDLES, AND LC PROLOGUE. You're not so sure aboat Jim my Valentine as you might be not until the very last chapter, when he "finds himself" in a scene that is as cleverly con oeived as anything ever present sd in American fiction or drama. What you are sure of as you read—very, very sure, in fact— 1 is that you are following the story of a most interesting char acter, one whose doings on the stage have held the interest of many thousands. Jimmy Valen tine becomes a "crook," with most of the failings and weak nesses of a man who doesn't recognize the difference between mine and thine, but he winds up as a—well, read the story and find out for yourself how he winds up. It will be worth your while, for this absorbing, thrill ing romance of both the under world and the upper world as well proves that a man has nev er sank so low but that he may again regain the honor he has thrust aside when the true spirit of manhood throbs within him. barred win-lows looked out luto the prison yard, whore at prescribed in •tervals gangs of convicts were allowed to take a brief outing to breathe in the air from the hills that mocked them, thus to prolong thp lives of those who hoped to live as well as of those who hoped to die. thus to strengthen the nerves of tho unfortu nates whom justice had decreed must some day iU sunrise go to a shadowy 1 the novelized version, is baaed «n O. Henry's story, "A Retrieved Refor Biauon.) wardeu's office in Sing Sing prison is not a pleasant spot in which to linger, whetner you may be inuocent or whether 1 of their surroundings. That is nature's way. Not so with Warden Handler, That which Is bad can be made to be* worse, innocence can be shown to be guilt—with the aid of trained wit I nesses. Repentence is always insin cere, and if it is not it can be made so A murderer should be made to re member always his Ignominy. A thief 1 should be reminded of his amateurish clumsiness which led him into the clutches of the central office men. That .was Handler's philosophy. That was Handler's way. And underlying all his petty oppres sion and gross inhumanity was a cause, deep rooted in a system of his own and of a race of jail keeper? that went before him. Exposure? Re moval? Bah! He bad considered all that. And, if worse came, to worse, •ad be not friends In the state senate? Was tbere not a governor who would aeed bis assistance in the state con vention wben it came to a question of delegates? Clearly the possibility of removal was tbe least of his worries. Warden Handler sat at his polished •ak desk In tbe middle of his office. At his left was another desk used by Smith, bis secretary. At bis back the ^CHICAGO WHITBY" HAD BSOAPBB. little stone room to sit in a sinister wooden chair equipped with stout straps and electric wires. Tbe warden was in bis customary pessimistic mood. Good reason for It this time, too, for "Chicago Whitey," a trusty, doing a "bit" of seven years, had got through the guards and drop ped over tbe wall on to tbe top of a car of an "up bound" freight train tbe evening before. Not a trace of him yet. Handler's pride in his record as a pen master was at stake, and he blamed himself and the whole' universe for the official explanations which must soon be forthcoming. His dark eyes gleamed vengefully: bis short cropped black hair fairly bristled with the rage that surged in the thick skull beneath it his strong, square jaws were grimly set. though now and again his upper lip would curl slightly back as he gritted his teeth, revealing a row of tobacco stained incisors Ves, Warden Handler was disturbed. He fingered a glistening letter opener Impatiently, and bis lips seemed to move "Serves me right for makin' a 'trusty' out of a bloomin' yegg.'' he muttered. "Might have known one of tbem wouldn't stay put in one place any length of time, not even in a coffin." The door at Handler's right opened. He half turned and glowered at a trusty who shuffled in. carrying a bot tle of drinking water. "It's pretty soft for you around here, eh?" grunted the warden. The convict hastened to place tbe bottle in the holder at the sound of the official's voice. He then hurried to ward tbe door, mumbling a faint "Yes. sir." as he went. "Suppose he'll be tryln' the west wall next." commented Handler, pounding bis fist on the desk. "But I'll trim 'em all yet. I'U"~ "A visitor for yon." announced bis secretary. Smith, entering. "His name to like a roll call In tbe German navy." He handed Handler a card. The warden took tbe pasteboard^ "BUck-en-dol-fen-bach," he read slow ly. "A man with a name like that has no right on tbe outside of a prison -What's bis graft "He baa a letter from tie state board •I prisons. He has invented a tofck, I 7 7 believe, tbat" "Let's have him." 1 The secretary ushered In nib earnest looking man with long, wavy black I hair. He was short and thin. "1 ain Guxtnve Bllckeudolfenbach, the great Inventor." said tho visitor to the warden. "1 have a lock for yUu to Inkeep the prisoners inlt." He bowed to the warden and rubbed his hands Complacently. "So I hear. Your lock can't be picked, eh?" The Inventor raised his hands In hor ror at the suggestion "Picked! Picked!*' he ejaculated. "M.v lock picked? The whole vorld It haff tried it—Gerruuny. France. Eng land—and even tbe cleverest thieves In Naples The whole vide vorld It all It haff not open without tb'ey tbe key haff." "So I've heard, but still it might be picked at that." "It Is maybe I don't understand plckcd—you mean opeu mlt not. my key?" "Yes: with a wire or"— "A vire!" exclaimed the inventor. "My lock open—that I haff spend four teen years to perfect? Neln It is laughter, .vas, but"— Handler was growing impatient. "It will be accepted only on the con dition that it cannot be opened with ont a key,'" ho pronounced. The inventor drew himself up proud ly. "Yaw. und I challenge the vorld." he tried confidently. "Well, all the world's champions are hi America, you know," answered the warden, "and when it comes to genius in mechanics most of them are in jail. We'll have It tried before noon ". The visitor took his precious^ lock ftrom his pocket and laid It on the table in front of the warden, saying: "1 keep the key Now the vorld can not my lock open." "It looks goad." commented Han dler. "Tf you care to wait I'll have It, tested." "I vait. I lofe to see the expert frown und smile und give it up. It is my Joy As tbe inventor went out to await the test George Doyle, a detective credited with a long list of important captures, entered the office and salut ed Handler. "Isn't Bill Arery to be let loose to day?" queried the newcomer. "Don't know. Is he?" returned the warden indifferently. Doyle gazed at the other signifi cantly. "Yes." he said. "I hear he's very friendly with Jimmy Valentine. The way Valentine's lawyer is going after new trial makes things look danger eus." "What about the man you bad make friends with Vaieutine in order to get him to talk about himself—to give himself away?" the warden asked shrewdly. Doyle shrugged. "Nothing to it. Valentine wouldn't get confidential with him. but if 1 could get Avery on my staff to work for me and squeal on Valentine I'd get him. I'd be able to keep him from getting a new trial." Thus did tbe detective describe In Ma conversation a small part of the ay stem which his fellow man bunters And of utility in serving their partic ular ends, whatever they may be—tbe "stool pigeon" system, which consists st forcing or persuading released crim teals to spy on their companions and to convey to the police tbe information they procure. Sometimes tbe detective uses the knowledge so gained for tbe purpose awrnoTrvK gkokob dotlb bmtbkbd OKFIGB. of arresting a fugitive, again for se curing a division of 111 gotten spoils, again for tbe purpose of obtaining witnesses who will find It policy to commit perjury at a trial, and so the underworld grows suspicious of Its neighbors and finds danger lurking Whe#e friendship's smile is sought Tbe warden resumed the coftversa- a 1 don't know JJout ,Av lease." be said. "Ob. Smith." turning to his assistant. "Where's tbe list?" "On your desk." •m .1. yes Avery here?" "He's waiting -outside." "l.et's have him." "He's a tough old boy. this Avery commented Doyle, "but he's m.v one best elmnce In trying to get the good on Valentine." The secretory brought In Bill Avery, whose gray hair, nshen face and sloop ing figure Indicated that prison for-' was uot rejuvenating, although tlier*1 was a strange sharpness In bis eyes. In his glance, thnt a long career of fur tlve watchfulness bad .developed. ^"You're finally out.' 9b?" "greeted the prison master. "You've done uine?" "Eight years ten inontbs. sir." "Treated pretty well, weren't you?" Avery gazed intently at Smith, then he replied to bis questioner: "You've never heard me complain, have you?" "No, and It wouldn't have got you much." "1 saw that the first day In." "Well, now what? Going to turn square?" Handler sneered as he spoke. The released convict looked the ward en squarely In the eyes. "You know I am, sir." Handler laughed uproariously. "I know: they all say so. Oh, here's an old friend of yours, Avery." The speaker pointed to Doyle. "1 don't remember him." replied the old man after a searching suspicious Inspection of the detective. "You don't remember me—eh. Bilk?' Doyle laughed. Avery suddenly exclaimed: "I got you now. You're Doyle—still a copper?" "Still a copper. Bill" "You ain't got anything on me to hold over me when 1 get out" "That's true. Bill. Anyway.- this time I'm your friend." said tbe detec tive in earnest manner. Avery threw his head back. "My friend?" he exclaimed in aston ishment. The warden could barely suppress a grin. "Yes I think 1 know wbere I can get you a pretty good job," went on Doyle engagingly. "Nobody wants me," said Avery de spondently. "I think I can arrange it" "A job in a laundry, eh?" snapped the ex-prisner "I've been a wash woman here." "There are lots of jobs where you don't have to know a trade. Can't Bill sit down, warden?" "Why, certainly," responded Han dler. Avery, voicing his thanks, seated himself at tbe warden's table. Doyle came close to tbe old man. "There's one thing you want to do, Bill, above everything else—keep out of bad company." he warned. Avery hesitated. He glanced from the detective across to the warden. "I'm getting out of bad company to day," he replied briefly. Doyle started forward. "Yes. and it's a good thing you are. for you're getting away from Valen tine." "Valentine?" "Yes." insisted Doyle. "It doean't do you any good to know a man like that 1 suppose you know he killed Cotton so be wouldn't have to divide tbe swag wltb him." Tbe other shook hie head decisively. "I don't know anything about *lt" The detective now spoke sharply. "And what's be got against you? He sent out word that"—the question er suddenly shifted—"what message did he give you to take out to—to"— Avery drew back involuntarily. "He didn't give me any message.", he cried out in positive tones. Then both tbe -officials noticed tbat the ex-convict's eyes slowly drooped and became directed to tbe floor. "I could do you a good turn—If you trailed along wltb me." suggested the detective. 1 The released criminal brushed aside the invitation. He rose stiffly from his chair. "I'm on to you, Doyle. If you're to be my friend 1 know that I've got to be a stool pigeon, eh? Well, I'm old. 't know where I goin md this Influence Is not denied to Wben I leave here. But I'll take the river out there," pointing over his eboulder with his thumb, "for mine before play that game. I tell you"- I the old man's voice rose to an indig nant pitch-"it's only fly guys like you, Doyle, that's too lazy or too ignorant, to do their work tbemselves that has to have stool pigeons on your staff to do. your work for you. Why, you couldn't nab a twelve-year-old 'dip* If you didn't have some poor nerve bro ken sucker of a 'stool' to go out kbead and make tbe Job easy for you." Both Doyle and the warden, enraged at the old man. lunged viciously at him to wreak vengeance upon him for his denunciation. CHAPTER II. ITH an agility surprisingly in contrast wltb his former decrepit attitude, tbe Intend ed victim seized his chair and raised it threateningly over his head Tbe two officers baited. Doyle, regaining a capn demeanor, through the excellent self control which bad become one of bis valuable assets in 1 his business, spoke easily. "80 you don't want a friend, old follow?" Avery lowered tbe chair. "No." he snorted, "not any friends tbat are coppers. Thieves are bad enough." Tbe point of the reply did not escape Doyle. y'r~ "Well." he responded ailgrily. "you have got me for an enemy all tbe relit 1 ef your *«rthl«M life. You'd bettor charm sad beauty. come to see me once a month for tag I grab you by mistake-on suspicion. ••To wltb you!" snarled Avery. turning away und fuciug the warden. "I've got the regular st#te allowance for released prisoners comln' to me, ain't I?" •Yes." answered Handler, "and you ~-q presented take it and get out of here, you »anaie™, crook! Here, sign this" (he showed hiui a paper), "If you can write. If you can't, why. make your mark." The warden banded over a bill. The departing man scanned the greenback deprecatlngly "Five dollars," he cried, "and thisj suit of clothes that a country con stable could see tbe Sing Sing tag on In the night! Pretty good for eight years and ten months' work, eh? And you guy8 are my friends! For God's sake, let me get out of here, wbere there are men who don't live on the mistakes of some one else." He wheeled toward the door and disap peared. "There's one more we've got to keep track of." commented Doyle. "He'll be at work In a week," said Handler laconically. "Yes, and I'll nail him and give him back to you." "1 don't want him," the warden put in hastily "1 just might make it 7^ MBS. WEBSTEK AND MHS- MOOBB OF THB 1 GATE OP HOPE! SOCIETY. I tough for him if be was sent back. I thought be bad come to his senses and would help you against Valentine, but he's just a plain fool." 1 "And all alike—all blaming us for their fail." The detective seated him self as be spoke. "He can't work now he's too old. The game as be knew It was the yegg game." 1 Handler also had resumed bis seat, :and he leaned over his desk and said significantly: "So you're afraid Valen tine will get a new trial, eh? There's some class to Valentine. Have a smoke." The prison master held out a box of perfectos. from wbicb Doyle (gratefully extracted a weed. "Thanks." mumbled tbe detective, "This Valentine Is tbe only high class crook 1 ever knew that I couldn't reach and put away for keeps. There's 'something of a mystery about bin. 1 He'd get away with the Raffles game In high society in a walk. The swell dames would go daffy over his good looks and bis tony manners and blp pleasing voice. Yet he has tra^efl 1 along with the tougtbest gang in the business." ftoyle paused, then said, I "And yet be says he is innocent 1 sup- Post." "Yes," put in Handler, leaning com fortably in his chair. "Said 90 last time I talked with him. This prison is killing hiiti. He doesn't like It. He 'can't stand it. His nerves will stick out through his skin If they jump much more." I "He's the one fellow I think thi« life would cure. He's a wonder." "At safes, yoti mean," was Han dler's sarcastic rejoinder. Little did the warden and tbe detec tlve realize as they sat and schemed to bring about the further and com plete ruin of Jimmy Valentine "there's a divinity tbat shapes our ends, rough hew tbem how we will," nhn lanmilalt L... those who languish forlorn and hope leaa in prison cells. Little did they know that It might be Jimmy Valentine, No. 1289. who was to teacb them that tbe soul of a man Is an unquenchable spark that not even years of oppression degradation can lastingly dim wben tbe spirit wills that th$y shall not. And just now there came a knocking at the warden's door that portended 1 much for No. 1289. I The warden's secretary went to tba door opening from the office Into a I waiting room where visitors were re celved. He returned to announce, "Some members of tbe Gate of Hope aoclety. and they have the lieutenant governor and his niece with tbem." "Tbe lieutenant governor?" ejacu later Handler. "Fay." "Yes." I "What's the Gate of ,Hope?" aaked Doyle. "A gang of women tryln' to release fkom prison convicts they believe are Innocent." said the warden. The detective smiled. At Handler's order Smith summoned the callers,. Doyle making his exit. "Tbe lieutenant governor," pondered Handler. "I wonder there't ant about those contraett for tup- Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Webster of tbe aoclety. middle aged women of pleas ing appearance, came in, followed by Boae La tie. tbe lieutenant governor's niece, and that, official himself. Miss Lane, a young girl of unmistakable held cl Ime Ie bar' "Mr. Handler," spoke Mrs. Webetor, "we come today wltb a famous hu manitarian. Lieutenant Governor: Fay," she pronounced. Inclining to* ward that official. jj£/} 1 "Governor." said the Warden, bow Ins The lieutenant governor shook: his. niece. The party seated themselves,' facing the warden. "We have come here today." said Mrs. Moore, "to again ask that men be not forced to make confessions 1 while Imprisoned here that" may be ur 3d against them when they leave here. We understand thm through tbe pressure tbait can be brought to bear on the inmates In these institu tions they can be made willing to con fess to crimes they never committed." "What do you mean?" queried Han dler. "Oh, we understand that by depriv ing prisoners of their proper allow ance of food and of small privileges they are allowed, and by bullying con duct on the part of the men in charge of them the inmates can be led to make false confessions Involving] themselves or others. This informa-1 tion Is used against the nieb after they are released as well as against men who are at large whom the po-| lice desire to incriminate." I "No one is ever forced to confess anything here, madam," protested Handler. "But I know"— "Pardok me. Mrs. Moore," inter-' rupted the lleutennut governor. rlBlng. "I do not think that in your zeal you realize what you are saying:" He ad dressed the warden. "It seems, how ever, that these well meaning ladies "have evidence that a certain man here did confess some offense to a—a"— "To a stool," commented Handler.. "Am I responsible for the detectives who have men working Inside the prison for them?" "By a 'stool' you mean"— "A stool pigeon, a decoy. They win the confidence of prisoners and toll what they learn to the detectives." Mrs. Moore here went on to state that In Sing Sing and in all prisons were confined many innocent men.and that In any event released men should be encouraged to live bonestly, should be given a chance. They ought not to be pursued and hounded into being spies by detectives anxious to make a record for securing convictions re** gardless of the truth of the testimony. One reason the woman advanced for her stand was that a man who be came a spy or decoy must associate continually with men and women of questionable character, thus rendering it impossible to secure or much less remain in honest employment. "Bosh!" exclaimed Handler as abe ceased. "These folks we get don't want to live straight, won't Uve straight, can't live straight when they get on the outside. First, they're all lazy second, most of them are in sane. "What would you call a man," con tinued tbe warden, "who does some- UKtTTENANT GOVERNOK PAT NOUNOBD. WAS AN- thing the law forbids, does it when ever the opportunity offers without a chance of gain? What do you call a man who does a thing for tbe love of itr "An artist" answered Mrs. Web ster. "Artist! ..Then I've got a-lot of them," laughed Handler sarcastically. "Well, to me they are insane." To Rose Lane tbe adventure was ex tremely interesting. Finally socceed fcg in gaining her uncle's consent to fev accompanying him on a visit to tte peat prison, she was sow seeing 9 little section of the darker side of which appealed strongly to hsr nature. Bi vltt the strltsMSBt of 1' *, S bj