the jacket (the star-rover)- 第5部分

Again　he　lifted　me　in　the　air　and　crashed　me　down　into　the　chair。



〃No　nonsense；　Standing；〃　he　warned。　　〃Make　a　clean　breast　of　it。

Where　is　the　dynamite？〃



〃I　don't　know　anything　of　any　dynamite；〃　I　protested。



Once　again　I　was　lifted　and　smashed　back　into　the　chair。



I　have　endured　tortures　of　various　sorts；　but　when　I　reflect　upon

them　in　the　quietness　of　these　my　last　days；　I　am　confident　that　no

other　torture　was　quite　the　equal　of　that　chair　torture。　　By　my　body

that　stout　chair　was　battered　out　of　any　semblance　of　a　chair。

Another　chair　was　brought；　and　in　time　that　chair　was　demolished。

But　more　chairs　were　brought；　and　the　eternal　questioning　about　the

dynamite　went　on。



When　Warden　Atherton　grew　tired；　Captain　Jamie　relieved　him；　and

then　the　guard　Monohan　took　Captain　Jamie's　place　in　smashing　me

down　into　the　chair。　　And　always　it　was　dynamite；　dynamite；　〃Where

is　the　dynamite？〃　and　there　was　no　dynamite。　　Why；　toward　the　last　I

would　have　given　a　large　portion　of　my　immortal　soul　for　a　few

pounds　of　dynamite　to　which　I　could　confess。



I　do　not　know　how　many　chairs　were　broken　by　my　body。　　I　fainted

times　without　number；　and　toward　the　last　the　whole　thing　became

nightmarish。　　I　was　half…carried；　half…shoved　and　dragged　back　to

the　dark。　　There；　when　I　became　conscious；　I　found　a　stool　in　my

dungeon。　　He　was　a　pallid…faced；　little　dope…fiend　of　a　short…timer

who　would　do　anything　to　obtain　the　drug。　　As　soon　as　I　recognized

him　I　crawled　to　the　grating　and　shouted　out　along　the　corridor：



〃There　is　a　stool　in　with　me；　fellows！　　He's　Ignatius　Irvine！　　Watch

out　what　you　say！〃



The　outburst　of　imprecations　that　went　up　would　have　shaken　the

fortitude　of　a　braver　man　than　Ignatius　Irvine。　　He　was　pitiful　in

his　terror；　while　all　about　him；　roaring　like　beasts；　the　pain…

racked　lifers　told　him　what　awful　things　they　would　do　to　him　in　the

years　that　were　to　come。



Had　there　been　secrets；　the　presence　of　a　stool　in　the　dungeons

would　have　kept　the　men　quiet；　As　it　was；　having　all　sworn　to　tell

the　truth；　they　talked　openly　before　Ignatius　Irvine。　　The　one　great

puzzle　was　the　dynamite；　of　which　they　were　as　much　in　the　dark　as

was　I。　　They　appealed　to　me。　　If　I　knew　anything　about　the　dynamite

they　begged　me　to　confess　it　and　save　them　all　from　further　misery。

And　I　could　tell　them　only　the　truth；　that　I　knew　of　no　dynamite。



One　thing　the　stool　told　me；　before　the　guards　removed　him；　showed

how　serious　was　this　matter　of　the　dynamite。　　Of　course；　I　passed

the　word　along；　which　was　that　not　a　wheel　had　turned　in　the　prison

all　day。　　The　thousands　of　convict…workers　had　remained　locked　in

their　cells；　and　the　outlook　was　that　not　one　of　the　various　prison…

factories　would　be　operated　again　until　after　the　discovery　of　some

dynamite　that　somebody　had　hidden　somewhere　in　the　prison。



And　ever　the　examination　went　on。　　Ever；　one　at　a　time；　convicts

were　dragged　away　and　dragged　or　carried　back　again。　　They　reported

that　Warden　Atherton　and　Captain　Jamie；　exhausted　by　their　efforts；

relieved　each　other　every　two　hours。　　While　one　slept；　the　other

examined。　　And　they　slept　in　their　clothes　in　the　very　room　in　which

strong　man　after　strong　man　was　being　broken。



And　hour　by　hour；　in　the　dark　dungeons；　our　madness　of　torment　grew。

Oh；　trust　me　as　one　who　knows；　hanging　is　an　easy　thing　compared

with　the　way　live　men　may　be　hurt　in　all　the　life　of　them　and　still

live。　　I；　too；　suffered　equally　with　them　from　pain　and　thirst；　but

added　to　my　suffering　was　the　fact　that　I　remained　conscious　to　the

sufferings　of　the　others。　　I　had　been　an　incorrigible　for　two　years；

and　my　nerves　and　brain　were　hardened　to　suffering。　　It　is　a

frightful　thing　to　see　a　strong　man　broken。　　About　me；　at　the　one

time；　were　forty　strong　men　being　broken。　　Ever　the　cry　for　water

went　up；　and　the　place　became　lunatic　with　the　crying；　sobbing；

babbling　and　raving　of　men　in　delirium。



Don't　you　see？　　Our　truth；　the　very　truth　we　told；　was　our

damnation。　　When　forty　men　told　the　same　things　with　such　unanimity；

Warden　Atherton　and　Captain　Jamie　could　only　conclude　that　the

testimony　was　a　memorized　lie　which　each　of　the　forty　rattled　off

parrot…like。



From　the　standpoint　of　the　authorities；　their　situation　was　as

desperate　as　ours。　　As　I　learned　afterward；　the　Board　of　Prison

Directors　had　been　summoned　by　telegraph；　and　two　companies　of　state

militia　were　being　rushed　to　the　prison。



It　was　winter　weather；　and　the　frost　is　sometimes　shrewd　even　in　a

California　winter。　　We　had　no　blankets　in　the　dungeons。　　Please　know

that　it　is　very　cold　to　stretch　bruised　human　flesh　on　frosty　stone。

In　the　end　they　did　give　us　water。　　Jeering　and　cursing　us；　the

guards　ran　in　the　fire…hoses　and　played　the　fierce　streams　on　us；

dungeon　by　dungeon；　hour　after　hour；　until　our　bruised　flesh　was

battered　all　anew　by　the　violence　with　which　the　water　smote　us；

until　we　stood　knee…deep　in　the　water　which　we　had　raved　for　and　for

which　now　we　raved　to　cease。



I　shall　skip　the　rest　of　what　happened　in　the　dungeons。　　In　passing

I　shall　merely　state　that　no　one　of　those　forty　lifers　was　ever　the

same　again。　　Luigi　Polazzo　never　recovered　his　reason。　　Long　Bill

Hodge　slowly　lost　his　sanity；　so　that　a　year　later；　he；　too；　went　to

live　in　Bughouse　Alley。　　Oh；　and　others　followed　Hodge　and　Polazzo；

and　others；　whose　physical　stamina　had　been　impaired；　fell　victims

to　prison…tuberculosis。　　Fully　25　per　cent。　of　the　forty　have　died

in　the　succeeding　six　years。



After　my　five　years　in　solitary；　when　they　took　me　away　from　San

Quentin　for　my　trial；　I　saw　Skysail　Jack。　　I　could　see　little；　for　I

was　blinking　in　the　sunshine　like　a　bat；　after　five　years　of

darkness；　yet　I　saw　enough　of　Skysail　Jack　to　pain　my　heart。　　It　was

in　crossing　the　Prison　Yard　that　I　saw　him。　　His　hair　had　turned

white。　　He　was　prematurely　old。　　His　chest　had　caved　in。　　His　cheeks

were　sunken。　　His　hands　shook　as　with　palsy。　　He　tottered　as　he

walked。　　And　his　eyes　blurred　with　tears　as　he　recognized　me；　for　I；

too；　was　a　sad　wreck　of　what　had　once　been　a　man。　　I　weighed　eighty…

seven　pounds。　　My　hair；　streaked　with　gray；　was　a　five…years'

growth；　as　were　my　beard　and　moustache。　　And　I；　too；　tottered　as　I

walked；　so　that　the　guards　helped　to　lead　me　across　that　sun…

blinding　patch　of　yard。　　And　Skysail　Jack　and　I　peered　and　knew　each

other　under　the　wreckage。



Men　such　as　he　are　privileged；　even　in　a　prison；　so　that　he　dared　an

infraction　of　the　rules　by　speaking　to　me　in　a　cracked　and　quavering

voice。



〃You're　a　good　one；　Standing；〃　he　cackled。　　〃You　never　squealed。〃



〃But　I　never　knew；　Jack；〃　I　whispered　backI　was　compelled　to

whisper；　for　five　years　of　disuse　had　well…nigh　lost　me　my　voice。

〃I　don't　think　there　ever　was　any　dynamite。〃



〃That's　right；〃　he　cackled；　nodding　his　head　childishly。　　〃Stick

with　it。　　Don't　ever　let'm　know。　　You're　a　good　one。　　I　take　my　hat

off　to　you；　Standing。　　You　never　squealed。〃



And　the　guards　led　me　on；　and　that　was　the　last　I　saw　of　Skysail

Jack。　　It　was　plain　that　even　he　had　become　a　believer　in　the

dynamite　myth。





Twice　they　had　me　before　the　full　Board　of　Directors。　　I　was

alternately　bullied　and　cajoled。　　Their　attitude　resolved　itself

into　two　propositions。　　If　I　delivered　up　the　dynamite；　they　would

give　me　a　nominal　punishment　of　thirty　days　in　the　dungeon　and　then

make　me　a　trusty　in　the　prison　library。　　If　I　persisted　in　my

stubbornness　and　did　not　yield　up　the　dynamite；　then　they　would　put

me　in　solitary　for　the　rest　of　my　sentence。　　In　my　case；　being　a

life　prisoner；　this　was　tantamount　to　condemning　me　to　solitary

confinement　for　life。



Oh；　no；　California　is　civilized。　　There　is　no　such　law　on　the

statute　books。　　It　is　a　cruel　and　unusual　punishment；　and　no　modern

state　would　be　guilty　of　such　a　law。　　Nevertheless；　in　the　history

of　California　I　am　the　third　man　who　has　been　condemned　for　life　to

solitary　confinement。　　The　other　two　were　Jake　Oppenheimer　and　Ed

Morrell。　　I　shall　tell　you　about　them　soon；　for　I　rotted　with　them

for　years　in　the　cells　of　silence。



Oh；　another　thing。　　They　are　going　to　take　me　out　and　hang　me　in　a

little　whileno；　not　for　killing　Professor　Haskell。　　I　got　life…

imprisonment　for　that。　　They　are　going　to　take　me　out　and　hang　me

because　I　was　found　guilty　of　assault　and　battery。　　And　this　is　not

prison　discipline。　　It　is　law；　and　as　law　it　will　be　found　in　the

criminal　statutes。



I　believe　I　made　a　man's　nose　bleed。　　I　never　saw　it　bleed；　but　that

was　the　evidence。　　Thurston；　his　name　was。　　He　was　a　guard　at　San

Quentin。　　He　weighed　one　hundred　and　seventy　pounds　and　was　in　good

health。　　I　weighed　under　ninety　pounds；　was　blind　as　a　bat　from　the

long　darkness；　and　had　been　so　long　pent　in　narrow　walls　that　I　was

made　dizzy　by　large　open　spaces。　　Really；　mime　was　a　well…defined

case　of　incipient　agoraphobia；　as　I　quickly　learned　that　day　I

escaped　from　solitary　and　punched　the　guard　Thurston　on　the　nose。



I　struck　him　on　the　nose　and　made　it　bleed　when　he　got　in　my　way　and

tried　to　catch　hold　of　me。　　And　so　they　are　going　to　hang　me。　　It　is

the　written　law　of　the　State　of　California　that　a　life…timer　like　me

is　guilty　of　a　capital　crime　when　he　strikes　a　prison　guard　like

Thurston。　　Surely；　he　could　not　have　been　inconvenienced　more　than

half　an　hour　by　that　bleeding　nose；　and　yet　they　are　going　to　hang

me　for　it。



And；　see！　　This　law；　in　my　case；　is　EX　POST　FACTO。　　It　was　not　a　law

at　the　time　I　killed　Professor　Haskell。　　It　was　not　passed　until

after　I　received　my　life…sentence。　　And　this　is　the　very　point：　　my

life…sentence　gave　me　my　status　under　this　law　which　had　not　yet

been　written　on　the　books。　　And　it　is　because　of　my　status　of　life…

timer　that　I　am　to　be　hanged　for　battery　committed　on　the　guard