further steps were not many. 
A cell door was reached and unlocked by the in- 
serting of a great iron key. It was swung open, and 
the same big hand guided him through. A moment 
later the bag was pulled easily from his head, and he 
saw that he was in a narrow, whitewashed cell, not very 
light and not very dark, windowless, but lighted from 
the top by a small skylight of frosted glass three and 
one half feet long by four inches wide. For a night light 
there was a tin-bodied lamp swinging from a hook near 
the middle of one of the side walls. A rough iron cot, 
furnished with a straw mattress and two pairs of dark 
blue, possibly unwashed blankets, stood in one corner. 
There was a hydrant and small sink in another. A shelf 
for books or razor cup and strop, or what you will, occu- 
pied the wall opposite the bed. A plain wooden chair 
with a homely round back stood at the foot of the bed, 
and a fairly serviceable broom was standing in one corner. 
There was an iron stool or pot for excreta giving, as he 
could see, into a large drain-pipe which ran along the in- 
side wall, and which was obviously flushed by buckets of 
water being poured into it. Rats and other vermin in- 
fested this, and it gave off an unpleasant odor which 
filled the cell. The floor was of stone. Cowperwood's 
clear-seeing eyes, somewhat touched with regret at his 
predicament, took it all in at a glance. He also took in 
Mr. Chapin, the homely, good-natured cell overseer whom 
he now saw for the first time—a large, heavy, lumbering 
man, rather dusty and misshapen-looking, whose uniform 
did not fit him well, and whose manner of standing made