"That's all right, Mr. Cowperwood. I never expect 
anythin' fur doin' what I consider right. I hope you git 
out, though, fer I think very likely you deserve to. You 
look that way to me. You've had a taste o' this place now, 
and ye see what it is. If I can ever do anythin' for you, 
I'll be glad to." 
Cowperwood, who was actually moving at the time, 
gathered up an armful of linen, underwear, books, and 
the like, and went his way. In his ill-fitting, semi-cotton, 
striped, cheap suit, and with his arms full of movables, he 
looked anything but the financier who had been such a 
striking personage in Third Street. 
The new overseer with whom Cowperwood had to deal 
was a very different person from Elias Chapin. His name 
was Walter Bonhag, and he was not more than thirty- 
seven years of age—a big, flabby sort of person with a 
crafty mind, whose principal object in life was to see 
whether this prison situation as he found it would not 
furnish him a better income than his normal salary pro- 
vided. A close study of Bonhag would have seemed to 
indicate that he was a stool-pigeon of Desmas, but this 
was really not true except in a limited way. Because 
Bonhag was shrewd and sycophantic, quick to see a point 
in his or anybody else's favor, Desmas instinctively real- 
ized that he was the kind of man who could be trusted 
to be lenient on order or suggestion. That is, if Desmas 
had the least interest in a prisoner he need not say as 
much to Bonhag; he might merely suggest that this 
man was used to a different kind of life, or that, because 
of some past experience, it might go hard with him if 
he were handled roughly; and Bonhag would strain 
himself to be pleasant. The trouble was that to a shrewd 
man of any refinement his attentions were objectionable, 
being obviously offered for a purpose, and to a poor 
or ignorant man they were brutal and contemptuous. 
He had a score of methods of making money out of the 
prisoners by selling them extra allowances of things which