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I-Alias Jimmy I Valentine" Novelized by FREDERICK R. TOOMBS From the Great Play by PAUL ARMSTRONG Copyright, 1910. by American Press Association [CONTINUED.] A very inrew nis bead back. "My friend?" he exclaimed in aston ishment. The warden could barely suppress a grin. "Yes I think I know where 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, eb?" snapped the ex-prisoner. "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 bis thanks, seated himself at the warden's table, Doyle came close to the old man. "There's one thing 3'ou want to do, Bill, above everything else—keep out •f 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 «ne." "Valentine?" "Yes." insisted Doyle. "It doesn't do you any good to know a man like that. I suppose you know he killed Ootton so be wouldn't have to divide the swag with him." The other shook his head decisively. "I don't know anything about it." 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," be cried out in positive tones. Then both the officials noticed that the ex-convict's eyes slowly drooped and became directed to the floor. "I could do you a good turn—if you trailed along with me." suggested the detective. The released criminal brushed aside the invitation. He rose stiflly from his chair. "I'm on to you, Doyle. If you're to be my friend I know that I've got to be a stool pigeon, eh? Well, I'm old, and I don't know where I'm goin' when I leave here. But I'll take the river out there," pointing over bis shoulder with his thumb, "for mine before I play that game. I tell you"— 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 themselves that has to have stool pigeons on your staff to do your work for you. Why, youthe 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 ahead and make the job easy for you." Both Doyle and the warden, enraged at the old man. hinged viciously at him to wreak vengeance upon him for his denunciation. CHArTER II. W ITH an agility surprisingly in contrast with his former decrepit attitude, the intend ed victim seized his chair and raised it threateningly over his head. The two officers halted. Doyle, regaining a calm demeanor, through the excellent self control which had become one of his valuable assets in his business, spoke easily. "So you don't want a friend, old fellow?" Avery lowered the chair. "No." he snorted, "not any friends that are coppers. Thieves are bad enough." The point of the reply did not escape Doyle. "Well," be responded angrily, "you have got me for an enemy all the rest of your worthless life. You'd better come to see me once a month for fear I grab you by mistake—on suspicion." "To with you!'" snarled Avery, turning away and facing the warden. I've got the regular state allowance for released prisoners comin' to me, ain't I?" "Yes," answered Handler, "and you take it and get out of here, yon crook! Here, sign this" (he showed him a pap.T), "if you can write. If you can't, why, ni?.ko your mark." The warden banded over a bill. The departing man scanned the greenback deprecatingly. "Five dollars," he cried, "and this suit of clothes that a country con stable could see the Sing Sing tag on in the night! Pretty good for eight years and ten months' work, eh? And you guys are my friends! For God's sake.. let tuc get out of here, where there are'men who don't live on tbc| mistakes of some .one else." He •wheeled toward (he 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 hhn and give him back to you." "I don't want him," the warden put In hastily. "I Just might make it .*.•** "P fit- 4 "]i am *. ,^W~ MBS. WEBSTER ASV MK8. MOOKE OF THK GATE OF HOPE SOCIETY. tough for him if be was sent back. I thought he had come to his senses and would help you against Valentine, but he's just a plain fool." "And all alike—all blaming us for their fall." 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." Handler also had resumed bis seat, and he leaned over bis desk and said significantly: "So you're afraid Valen tine will get a new trial, eb? There's some class to Valentine. Have a smoke." The prison master held out a box of perfectos, from which Doyle gratefully extracted a weed. "Thanks." mumbled the detective. "This Valentine is the only high class crook I ever knew that I couldn't reach and put away for keeps. There's something of a mystery about him. He'd get away with the Raffles game in high society in a walk. The swell dames would go daffy gver his good looks and his tony manners and bis pleasing voice. Yet be has trailed along with the toughest gang In the business." Doyle paused, then said, "And yet he says he is Innocent, I sup pose." "Yes," put In Handler, leaning com fortably in his chair. "Said so last time I talked with him. This prison is killing him. He doesn't like it. He can't stand- it. His nerves will stick out through his skin if they jump much more." "He's the one fellow I think this life would cure. He's a wonder." "At safes, you mean," was Han dler's sarcastic rejoinder. Little did the warden and the detec tive realize as they sat and schemed to bring about the further and com plete ruin of Jimmy Valentine that "there's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how "we will," and this influence is not denied to those who languish forlorn and hope less in prison cells. Little did they know that it might be Jimmy Valentine. Xo. 1289. who was to teach them that the soul of a man is an unquenchable spark that not even years of oppression and degradation can lastingly dim when spirit wills that they shall not. And just now there came a knocking at the warden's door that portended much for No. 1289. The warden's secretary went to the door opening from the office into a waiting room where visitors were re ceived. He returned to announce, "Some members of the Gate of Hope society, and they have the lieutenant governor and his niece with them." "The lieutenant governor?" ejacu later Handler. "Fay." "Yes." "What's the Gate of Hope?" asked Doyle. "A gang of women tryin' to release from prison convicts they believe are innocent," said the warden. The detective smiled. At Handler's order Smith summoned the callers, Doyle making his exit. "The lieutenant governor." pondered Handler. "7 wonder if there's any leak about those contracts for sup plies." Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Webster of the society, middle aged women of pleas ing appearance, came in, followed by Rose Lane, the lieutenant governor's niece, and that official himself. Miss Lane, a young girl of laimistakable charm and beauty, held close to her uncle's side. "Mr. Handler," spoke Mrs. Webster, "wo come today with a famous hu manitarian, Lieutenant Governor Fay," she pronounced, inclining to ward that official. "Governor." said the warden, bow ing. The lieutenant governor shook Handler's hand and presented 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' while imprisoned hero that may be used against them when they leave' here. We understand that through the pressure that can be brought to bear on the Inmates in fie-e institu tions they can be modi' /il'.ing to con fess to crimes they never committed." ."What do you mean?' queried Han- "Oh, we understaud that by depriv ing prisoners of their proper allow ance of food and of small privileges tbey are allowed, and by bullying con duct on the part of the meu In charge of them the inmates can be led to make false confessions involving I themselves or others. This informa {tion is used against the men after tbey are released as well as against men who are at large whom the po lice desire to incriminate." "No one is ever forced to confess anything here, madam," protested Handler. "But I know" "Pardon me. Mrs. Moore," Inter rupted the lieutenant governor, rising, "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 ladles 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 meu working inside the prison for them?" "By a 'stool' you mean"— "A stool pigeon, a decoy. They win the confidence of prisoners and tell 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 honestly, should be given a chance. They ought not to be pursued and bounded 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 she ceased. "These folks we get don't want to live straight, won't live straight, can't live straight when they get on the outside. First, they're all lazy second, most of them are in sane, or "What would you call a man," con tinued the warden, "who does some- LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR FAY WAS AN NOUNCED. 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 the love of it?" "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 the adventure was ex tremely interesting. Fiually succeed ing in gaining her uncle's consent to her accompanying him on a visit to the great prison, she was now seeing a little section of the darker side of life which appealed strongly to her imaginative nature, ner cheeks flush ed with the excitement of the oefn sion. this, voyage into this famous tomb of living dead men. As the warden finished she exclaim ed, "I once had an experience with a burglar, and"— "Did he take your jewels?" asked Mrs. Moore sympathetically. "No. I was in the parlor car in day light. I was the only person In the car, and this man walked up and ac costed me. I reached for the bell for the porter, ne struck my wrist Then he sat on the arm of my chair. He wanted to talk to me, he said. I scarcely knew what to do when a younger man. evidently a gentleman. walked in from the smoking compart ment and, taking the man by the arm. led him away." "How do you know (he man was a |urglar?" asked the lieutenant gov »rnor. "Listen. I had no more than cot my breath when the man came back. He "HE WAS TALL AND HAD BLOND UAIB." threw his arms about my shoulders and again sat on the chair arm. When I reached for the bell he struck my arm. I screamed. The gentleman who had taken him away before rau Into the car, and they fought. I was petrified with fright The gentleman was much the smaller, and it seemed he would surely be killed when sud denly by some trick he sent the man crashing through the Pullman window. I read in the paper the next day that a famous burglar was found with his skull fractured near the tracks." A strange light came into Handler's eyes. Was it possible, he thought that so strange a coincidence— "Did that occur in this state?" he asked quickly. "Yes," between Buffalo and Roches ter two years ogo in June." The warden compressed his lips firmly. "Was the dead burglar's name Cot ton?" he interrogated earnestly. "Yes that's what the papers said. Did you know him?" "Had him here for five years once Odd, but we heard he was killed try ing to get on a moving train. And. by the way, his particular pal is now lu this prison doing ten—safe breaking His name is Valentine. The story you tell is a brand new one on us." "And you never saw again the gen tleman who rescued you?" queried Mrs. Moore of Miss Lane. "Never." Into the young girl's face came an expression of mingled sweet ness and regret. The woman's ques tion seined to revive in her the mem ories of a voice and-face and a man ner and a personality which somehow she had never been quite able to for get. "We sat and talked for a few min utes," she finally went on. "He told me that there were reasons why he could not^jet me know who he was and that be could never see me again, though I wanted him to meet my fami ly to receive their thanks for what he had done. He was very nervous, but he had amazing strength for one of his build, as his handling of that ruf fian showed. When be shook hands with me I noticed that his hands were very white and smooth and sensitive." The warden was now leaning over his desk, intent on the girl's words. "I noticed that he had the habit of frequently pressing one hand nervous ly into the other, and"— "He was tall, and be had blond hair," Interjected the warden. The girl gazed at Handler in open mouthed astonishment. CHAPTER III. W ARDEN HANDLER, regret ting that he had given his visitors an indication that he believed he had recognized Rose Lane's deliverer, answered the questions of the girl and the lieuten ant governor by stating: "The man is as bad as the burglar he threw out of the car window—even worse. He's in this prison at this moment, I firmly Relieve, according to the description We've just heard." "Oh. impossible!" exclaimed Miss Lane, her face coloring. "He was a gentleman, a thorough gentleman, and too young to bo a hardened criminal." Her face became shadowed with on cern. The warden was vastly amused at this remark, which the young girl ren dered with the finality of unquestioned authority. "Too voting!" he lausrhed "Age doesn't cut any figure in crime the way you mean. It's some of these young fellows that will take a chance at anything. You see. they're ambi tious. They're anxious to rise in then business." I The warden paused and glanced from the girl to the observing lieutenant governor, then to the two members of the Gate of Hope. He commented on the fact that his visitors had dis agreed with him on various points and informed them that lie had determined to offer them a tew object lessons, lessons with living models. "I'll show you," he said, "that these crooks we've got here will ply their trade at all times, whether tbey profit or uof, that, in short criminality Is a mania with them and that there's no use in try ing to better them." His first exhibit, brought in by the secretary, was tlie celebrated forger "Blinkey" Davis. At tbe warden's request Lieutenant Gov ciu»i Fay diev a clk^u lor 4j auu handed it to Blinkey. To oblige the warden Blinkey, aided by a knife and pen and ink, in five minutes had "raised" It to tbe amount of $50,000. The lieutenant governor pronounced It perfect. "I know where I could pass it. too," laughed Blinkey as he was led away. "I bad him on the books once, and he couldn't resist raising tbe prison checks," chuckled Handler. "I could bring in fellows like that all day."tered He picked up an object from his desk. "Do you see this lock? A German Inveutor waiting outside has spent fourteen years in perfecting that He claims It cannot be opened without the key. The prison board has accept ed it for use here if the claims made for It are true. We have a man here paralyzed on one side, a sneak thief. I have sent for bim. He may not open it, but be will try, for he cannot re sist the criminal mania that controls him. Smith." to bis secretary, "get the Dutchman also the gentleman known as 'Dick the Rat'" When the decrepit form of "Dick the Rttt" was brought in, together with the patient inventor Blickendolfen bach, he was given the lock, three minutes and a hairpin. Ten seconds before his allotted time expired he threw the lock, opened, on the ward en's desk, and with his repulsive, seamy face contorted into what he considered was a smile be inclined bis head to one side. From his throat came inarticulate squeals of glee—ex actly the squeals of a rat. Only the watchfulness of Smith saved the "Rat" from the violent, despairing onslaught of tbe German, who screamed: "I'll kill him! He ruin me! Und mlt a hairpin, mein Gott!" "You're not the first man to be ruin ed by a hairpin," laughed the warden. "Don't tell your wife." Smith sent the inventor to the rail road station in charge of a guard and consigned tbe grinning Blinkey to tbe cell that had long beeu bis home. On returning to the office the secretary said: "I've brought Valentine along too. I thought you might want him to open the safe." A disturbed expression came Into the prison master's face. He glanced quickly at Fay and his niece, then talked In an undertone with his aid. He was Interrupted by Mrs. Webster. "Tbe two you have shown us do not entirely prove your argument, Mr. Warden," she said donbtlngly. "They are the very lowest types in the pris on. You argue a genera I premise from two Individual cases. We do not maintain that such apparent criminals as we have seen should be liberated, but"—she turned to Fay—"there are gentlemen here, governor, men of quite a different type than these, whom one never sees." "Warden," said the lieutenant gov ernor. "I fear the ladles have more Interest In the more romantic types of criminals—poets, for instance." Mrs. Moore rose Indignantly. "I shall make note of that frivolous speech in my report," she snapped. Handler thought of Valentine, who was bplng detained outside. Ho would BLINKEY DAVIH RAISED TnB CHECK TO $50,000. give his visitors their wish, as Fay seemed greatly interested. He would show them his prize exhibit. In spite of a belief that was taking a strong hold ou his brain' he would take a chance ou displaying tlio unique abili ties of No. 1289. He well kuew what to do should complications ensue. There were dark cells in Sing Sing for convicts the warden could decide to bo unruly. These wero damp, darl: cells below the level of the rushing river, relics of years when the state had little money and little thought for those held to have broken its laws Thrro were cells with "straitjucKets," where a man could be trussed up with straps fixed to the walls, like a suckling pig in a market window, only his toes touching the floor. Anyway No. 1,289 was already discredited. "Get Valentine!" he gruffly said to Smith. "Well, governor," he contin ued in a-more amiable tone, "I'll give you and the ladies a romantic type. He's not a poet, but he is doing ten years here for opening a bank safe without tools or the combination, sim ply by sense of touch. There is some poetry in that" "Impossible:" commented Fay. "Well, the bank safe was opened and the money stolen, and his pal peached." The door at the right of the office leading In from the corridors of cells opened. In came Smith, followed by a young man whose convict's garb could not overshadow the Intelligence at «»ovf«1 1o h* «»*»n t"fa r".W» m^v^wpf^W,v-'f»*'*'h ly the prison air was working Its baneful penalty on him with more suc cess thnn usual in the case of men who entered tbe institution In good health. Vaguely conscious that there were visitors present. No. 1289 stood before the warden with bis eyes di rected toward the floor. His shoul ders were square, he was of good height, with a figure which yet bore Indications that ho had been athletic in his free days. When he had en the room the lieutenant gov ernor had noticed that the convict walked with a free, manly stride, hav ing no semblance to tbe shuffling pris on slouch of his fellow Inmates. "Permit me," Handler addressed his visitors, with an elaborate gesture, "DIOK THE BAT." "to present Mr. Jimmy Valentine. He's put more time locks on tbe re tired list than any three men in the whole place, and when it comes to the fancy 'getaway' only a crosseywi copper can keep tabs on him." The warden's picturesque introduc tion was lost on Rose Lane. She caught a glimpse of the face of the man In felon's stripes. She leaned to one side to make certain. Yes now she could not possibly be mistaken. She extended her bund spasmodically and clutched this lieutenant governor's arm, [TO BE CONTINUED.] Saves two Uvts. 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