THE FINANCIER 
His skin was peculiarly white in contrast to his ruddy face 
and brown hands. 
" Step on the scale," said the attendant, brusquely. 
Cowperwood did so. The former adjusted the weights 
and scanned the record carefully. 
"Weight, one hundred and seventy-five," he called. 
"Now step over here." 
He indicated a spot in the side wall where was fastened 
in a thin slat—which ran from the floor to about seven 
and one half feet above, perpendicularly—a small movable 
wooden indicator, which, when a man was standing under 
it, could be pressed down on a level with his head. At the 
side of the slat were the total inches of height, laid off in 
halves, quarters, eighths, and so on, and to the right a 
length measurement for the arm. Cowperwood under- 
stood what was wanted, and stepped under the indicator, 
standing quite straight. 
"Feet level, back to the wall," urged the attendant. 
"So. Height, five feet nine and ten - sixteenths," he 
called. The clerk in the corner noted it. He now pro- 
duced a tape-measure and began measuring Cowper- 
wood's arms, legs, chest, waist, hips, etc. He called out 
the color of his eyes, his hair, his mustaches, and, looking 
into his mouth, exclaimed, " Teeth, all sound." 
After Cowperwood had once more given his address, 
age, profession, whether he knew any trade, etc.—which 
he did not—he was allowed to return to the bath-room, 
and put on the clothing which the prison provided for 
him. He put them on in order—first the rough, prickly 
underwear, then the cheap soft roll-collar, white-cotton 
shirt, then the thick bluish-gray cotton socks of a quality 
such as he had never worn in his life, and over these a 
pair of indescribable rough-leather clogs, which felt 
to his feet as though they were made of wood or iron 
—oily and heavy. He then drew on the shapeless, baggy 
trousers with their telltale stripes, and over his arms 
and chest the loose-cut shapeless coat and waistcoat. He 
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