Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 177: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DEBTS. 459 take missions for them. Did he accede to all these requests, he would traverse the entire country and spend a fortune. Nearly all the prisoners gazed upon him enviously, yearning for the wonderful thing that had come to Daniel Rodd. Presently there appeared a certain pris- oner who awakened a keen interest in Rodd. His eye kindled affectionately. The man shuffled straight to where Rodd stood. “T’m glad you're goin’ out, Dan,’ said “I know you be, Phil,” Rodd returned, “and I’m goin’ to do all I can to fetch you_ out.” Philip Buckley’s eyes glowed for a mo- ment, and then his face fell morosely. “I «wouldn’t waste no time on that,” he ad- vised, though not very heartily. “ A man that’s been in prison can’t do much for another man that’s sl in. But I’m thankin’ you just the same, Dan.” “T can work, can’t I, Phil? I can hire a lawyer to see after your case—and I guess he’ll know better about such things, won’t he?” “IT expect he will, Dan.” “Of course he will,” Rodd went on positively. ‘‘ Just like I told you before, Phil, there ain’t gobody on the outside ever ‘ took up your cal a Tl get a smart lawyer after it, Pil, and—and you wait and see! Why, they'll be dessin you out here some day soon.” Phil’s eye brightened. The prospect of being “‘ dressed out ” was alluring, though painted simply by a fellow convict. For a moment his breast was fired by a spark struck from his friend’s enthusiasm. “Tt’s the only chance I got, Dan,” said he. “If nobody on the outside looks out for me, I don’t see how I’m goin’ to do it in here. I ain’t got nothing to look ahead to, Ddn, if somebody on the outside don’t help me.’~ His voice dropped to a numib-monefone as he went on: “I’m doin’ life, and—”’ « You ain’t doin’ life!” Dan interjected sharply. ‘ Your time ain’t no longer than it ‘ll take me to get a smart lawyer to workin’. If I was you, Phil, I’d quit think- in’ about life.” “Well,” Phil rejoined practically, “ life is what they give me.” “‘That’s all right if they did, but there ain’t no call for you to be so set on doin’ it. ‘There’s been men in here with life that didn’t do it, ain’t there? You been in here fourteen years, Phil, and you know other lifers that went out on pardon, don’t you?” “ Yes,” Phil admitted, ‘“‘ and I know lots of ’em that went out in a pine box.” ““T feel like cuffin’ yeu, Phil Buckley!” Dan reprimanded his companion. ‘“ Trou- ble is, you’re set on doin’ life. Seems like you just want to do it. Give me a chance, Phil, and I'll show you. You just wait and see,.”’ “It’s mighty good of you, Dan,” Phil assured his friend. “I ain’t sayin’ you won’t do all you can—and maybe you can. do a lot. .I’ll never forget you, Dan, whether I get out or not; and I know that if I don’t get out, it won’t be no fault of © yourn.” They clasped hands. “ Good-by, Dan,” whispered Phil. “I'l have to be driftin’ down to the check-house, or they'll be yellin’ out my number and I won’t be there.”’ “ Good-by, Phil,” said Dan. His voice came near breaking, but he smiled and went on cheerfully.‘ Good-by, and cheer up. Ill get you out, Phil—just wait and see! 39 Phil Buckley, lifer, shuffled away. Dan- iel Rodd surveyed his bent shoulders—the shoulders of an old man, yet Phil was scarcely at middle age. At the summons of a guard, Rodd went up front to be. dressed out. In a half-hour he stepped outside the prison gates. Thus did the two friends part. Late that night Daniel Rodd came to the little farmhouse and the patient family from which he had been separated eight years. The oldest boy was now eighteen, the youngest twelve. The latter barely re- membered his father. He was to the lad a dim figure associated with his mother’s tears—many, many years ago, and at in- tervals since. He was the man who wrote letters to his mother and made her cry. He saw him now as a man old beyond — =a) OHIO STATE Ul einehe al fre KO ra e 6)(0)6) a CO