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74 ABBOTT'S MONTHLY The Eye of Suspicion - (Continued from page 36) tried to await his pals to tell them what it was all about, but having the pistol, and it being against the rule to stop, he kept moving, trying to concoct some way out of keeping the promise he made to his pals, without appearing yellow. But he could not. "I'll go. The deputy's no good anyhow - that's all bolony," he muttered to himself after closing the door of his cell. INSTANTLY the footsteps of the men could be heard - the gallery men coming in from the yard. Steve's gallery overseer was from his home, and was his friend. He hurried straight to Steve's cell to tell him the news, which always excitingly told by a convict." "They are going to shakedown. If you have anything yuh'd want to get rid of, better make haste," he said. The continuing noise of the hundreds of men walking sounded like a stampede, and as the men on base entered their cells the click of keys could be heard, which made Steve know that something strange was happening, because on Sunday the doors were never locked until after four o'clock, after the men had come off the yard from the ball game. Steve, therefore, pulled out his pistol, which greatly surprised the hall man. "Put it in some paper and hand it here!" said the hall man, "they are coming on this gallery now." Steve twisted some paper around the gun, and the hall man put it underneath his arm as though he had picked up some paper off the gallery, which was one of his duties. "Come right back," Steve said in a low tone. "All right," answered the hall man over his shoulder. Again a certain thought came to Steve which made him view the situation alarmingly. El Ojo De Sospecha again came into his mind, which made it hard for him to write this note to one of his partners in Spanish: Dele su pistola es bueno. Enviele a los otros con misma instruccion. Los van de buscar. BUT the good hall man, who was serving life for rape, was willing to endanger his good prison record for Steve, because, as a rapist, he too had been hated by the other classes of criminals. He always maintained this innocence - but he could not come back. Steve paced up and down his cell with nervous anticipation, a cigarette in his hand and another in his mouth. He found no relief, until the guards had shaken his cell down, finding no contraband, and until news had come to him that four other fellows were in solitary for having saws in their cells. His three partners were there for having pistols. The news was quickly spread by the illiterate convicts that Steve had turned them up, and found a way to get out of it himself. The following Monday he went to work on his "politician" job and that furnished conclusive proof that he was a "rat." Later voices from the quiet but dark cells could be heard talking of Steve. "Oh, I knowed all th' time that guy was a stool, but he is Vance's hero," scorned Dan. "That's all right, I'll put Jim clean on him if it's the last thing I ever do," threatened Red. "I never did rap to him," informed one of the four. "How do you guys know he did it?" questioned Vance. "You must be a rat yourself, accused Red, and all of them gave Vance the cold shoulder. Another, whose voice was light, nearly suffered a nervous breakdown because he could not be heard. He wanted to express his denunciation. A BIG muscular giant from Alabama, doing a stretch of ten years, delegated himself to give Steve a bit of rough treatment at the first opportunity. "Say, why can't I get a book I wants from this heah liberry?" he thundered in unfriendly tones to Steve. "Get outer here, you lousy bum," replied Steve, and in the meantime applied a chair with violent force to the giant's head, which necessitated surgical attention. He ran to the deputy; the deputy rushed him to the hospital; the doctor quickly dressed his wounds, and the hallmaster hastily put him in the "bull pen," where he boastfully told how he had licked "the rat." Red and Dan wrote a note to the deputy, telling him Steve was implicated in the escape plot; the deputy had them cuffed up to the door three hours longer each day for five days as a reward for their tip-off. He was fed up on tales about Steve, and the deputy decided to give them something else to think about. "That shows you it was fixed," said Red. "That old deputy is up to everything that's rotten," shot in Dan, leaning on his door, so hungry he was about to faint. "Don't you guys know you are ratting on Steve?" asked Vance. "That ain't rattin' - he ratted on us." "You might be mistaken about the whole business," replied Vance. BUT they did not see it from that light, and the same piece of imbecility on their part gave Vance a different view of life. He began to realize that "El Ojo De Sospecha" is more deadly than a rattlesnake. Meanwhile, this last experience had touched Steve deeply, and he grew to care nothing for gossip, nor to allow himself to worry about what people thought of him when he was doing the best he could to go straight. It had taught him to think for himself and to be guided by the dictates of his conscience. He had learned to find the causes of things, and instead of having hatred he had much sympathy for his fellow prisoners. He could not refrain from sending his comrades all kinds of food, smokes, etc. But they would be returned with a note reading: "We want nothing from a rat." Even that did not discourage him and he continued sending them things, under a different name. Steve did not know that Vance was his best friend, and had for May, 1931 75 spoken for him, until news came to him in a note written by Vance. The news of his generosity became a subject of discussion in the office. The warden called him in. "Why do you persist in favoring those fellows, Steve, when all they do is insult you?" he asked. "WELL," began Steve slowly, "I have been so badly misunderstood, even by myself, that I want to show them that I'm not the cheap kind of sport they are. Of course, to tell the truth, warden, criminals are smart in ways, but there is something about them which keeps them from thinking normally. They simply cannot do it. As to the tip about the escape that was planned, you know as well as I that I know nothing about it." The warden regarded Steve for some time then said: "I'll make you my assistant secretary, and you won't have to come in contact with those bums." The news spread widely that Steve had again been favored, and put outside the walls for protection. Dan had made his threats, and so had Red. The giant with his Alabamic habla, had been laughed at, and he was sharpening up his knife for a second encounter. In poco tiempo they would be freed from solitary. However, Steve, the Spanish speakink [[speaking]] Kid, was not out there long before an editor who carried both Spanish and English material in his paper had replied to one of Steve's letters editorially, and asked him if he would like to write something for his paper. Steve replied with his first story: "El Ojo De Sospecho." It made an immediate public hit. His name was passed around as a "literary find," and other articles appeared under his name in various magazines that dealt with stories in defense of imprisoned humanity. His day of release came. Steve walked out a free man. But before he left he asked for an audience with Vance, and gave him his word of honor that he would fight to the last in an effort to get him paroled. "I can get out for a thousand dollars," declared Vance. "I'll raise it, Vance, old boy, Keep good faith," Steve replied as he loosened his firm handshake and bade his friend farewell. THERE was something strikingly sentimental in Steve's departure. He could be seen by the trusted prisoners on his way to the station, looking back now and then, and staring with mingled joy across the blue waters of the small lake which bordered the city where free men dwelt. The sentiment of the prisoners was against Steve when he entered prison, then it changed in his favor; later it again turned against him, but when he said, "Good-bye, fellows," with a cheery smile on his face and a wave of his hand, it was with him - this time to stay. They spoke of him now in complementary terms. "All that education stuff them guys got, come from him" "Yeh, he was a smart egg." "I knew he was 'right people' all the time," went the expressions. The ten year term for Steve had been hard. He served seven of them with energy wasted in hatred of the officers, and nearly that long in hatred of the prisoners. He was hating the officers because they were showing him no consideration, while he was suspected by the inmates of being on the officers' side; he was hating the inmates because they would not consider him a "right guy." He passed three years in sympathy with the prisoners and disrespect for himself for not beginning his sentence like a man, and ending it as he had. But as the train rolled up to the station, announcing that again he was home, he murmured: "There is never a great loss without some small gain!" He found a loving sister awaiting him, offering him what little she had. He hoped that his manuscripts would sell, and he knew that he could and would work. 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