Alexander Berkman

“ A Ray of Light I YEARN FOR companionship. Even the mere sight of a human form is a relief. Every morning, after breakfast, I eagerly listen for the familiar swish-swash on the flagstones of the hallway: it is the old rangeman "sweeping up." The sensitive mouth puckered up in an inaudible whistle, the onearmed prisoner swings the broom with his left, the top of the handle pressed under the armpit.
"Hello, Aleck! How're you feeling to-day?
He stands opposite my cell, at the further end of the wall, the broom suspended in mid-stroke. ”

“ You're young yet."
"Old enough to die," I say, bitterly.
" S-sh! Don't speak so loud. The screw's got long ears."
"The screw?"
A wild hope trembles in my heart. The "screw"! The puzzling expression in the mysterious note,-perhaps this man wrote it. In anxious expectancy, I watch the rangeman. His back turned toward me, head bent, he hurriedly plies the broom with the quick, short stroke of the one-armed sweeper. "S-sh! " he cautions, without turning, as he crosses the line of my cell.
I listen intently. Not a sound, save the regular swish-swash of the broom. ”

“ The inmates sympathize with me, Wingie says. They know I'm "on th' level." I'm sure to find friends, but I must be careful of the "stool pigeons," who report everything to the officers. Wingie is familiar with the history of every keeper. Most of them are "rotten," he assures me. Especially the Captain of the night watch is "fierce an' an ex-fly. "I Only three "screws" are on night duty in each block, but there are a hundred overseers to "run th' dump" during the day. Wingie promises to be my friend, and to furnish "more pointers bymby." ”