above his wretched clothes, betokened the spirit which 
no conditions can demean. He lifted his head when Des- 
mas appeared, glad that any form should have appeared 
at his door, and looked at him with large, clear, examin- 
ing eyes—those eyes that in the past had inspired so much 
confidence and surety in all those who had known him. 
Desmas was interested on the moment. Compared with 
Stener, whom he knew in the past and whom he had met 
on his entry, this man was a force, a power. Say what 
you will, one forceful man inherently respects another. 
They are like wolves and tigers that run best in packs. 
They may eat one another ultimately, but never so long 
as there is anything else to eat. 
Cowperwood, never having seen Desmas, did not know 
who was looking at him, but on the instant he suspected 
it must be the warden. "This isn't Mr. Desmas, is it?" 
he asked, courteously and pleasantly. The glitter of his 
past estate still radiated in his manner. 
" Yes, sir, I'm the man. These rooms are not as com- 
fortable as they might be, are they ?" The warden's 
even teeth showed in a friendly yet wolfish way. 
"They certainly are not, Mr. Desmas," replied Cowper- 
wood, standing very erect and soldier-like. "I didn't 
imagine I was coming to a hotel, however." He smiled. 
"There isn't anything special I can do for you, is 
there ?" asked Desmas, curiously. "I've been talking 
to your lawyer." 
" I don't want to be asking anything, Warden, which 
you cannot reasonably give," returned Cowperwood, 
politely. " There are a few things I would change if I 
could. I wish I might have sheets for my bed, and I 
could afford better underwear if you would let me wear 
it. This that I have on annoys me a great deal." 
" They're not the best wool, that's true enough," re- 
plied Desmas, solemnly. " They're made for the State 
out here in Pennsylvania somewhere. I suppose there's 
no objection to your wearing your own underwear if you