An officer opened a door to the street and stood inside; another was outside; the chain gang filed out and climbed into an open wagon with seats on each side facing each other. A crowd of curious men and boys stood around the wagon. When my turn came, instead of getting into the wagon I dashed down the street, instinctively, like a wild animal. The guards didn’t chase me for fear the others would escape. The crowd shouted and cheered me on. I was free.

There was nothing in my room. I didn’t go near it. I had no money, and hunger seized me at once. I walked out of town, walked all day and till dark, when I found myself exhausted at a bums’ camp twenty miles away, on the outskirts of a small town. Confidently I walked up to the fire. I was one of them. I had escaped; I was hungry; I was ready for anything; I belonged around the fire. I heard an exclamation. A form rose up from the fireside and grabbed me with both hands. It was Smiler.

“That’s doin’ time, kid, what! Did you beat it? Where’s your coat?”

“Yes. My coat’s in the jail.”