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Grass is flesh, and flesh becomes grass; but the spirit is the thing that abides and survives. I have no patience with these flesh-worshippers. A taste of solitary in San Quentin would swiftly convert them to a due appreciation and worship of the spirit. But to return to my experience in Oppenheimer's cell. His body was that of a man long dead and shrivelled by desert heat.
Morrell said he would take it up some time, but that he disliked to such an extent the process of leaving his body that he would not make the attempt until such time that his suffering in the jacket became too extreme to be borne. "That is the way with all of them won't come across with the goods," was Oppenheimer's criticism. "My mother believed in spirits.
So I resolved, on my next return from Adam Strang's experiences, whenever it might be, that I should, immediately, I on resuming consciousness, concentrate upon what visions and memories. I had brought back of chess playing. As luck would have it, I had to endure Oppenheimer's chaffing for a full month ere it happened.
In the end, did I say? Another tribute to the magnificence of Oppenheimer's mind: in the end he became my master at the game he who had never seen a chessman in his life. What image of a bishop, for instance, could possibly form in his mind when I rapped our code-sign for bishop? In vain and often I asked him this very question.
Matter has no memory. Spirit only remembers, as here, in prison cells, after the centuries, knowledge of the Lady Om and Chong Mong-ju persisted in my mind, was conveyed by me into Jake Oppenheimer's mind, and by him was reconveyed into my mind in the argot and jargon of the West. And now I have conveyed it into your mind, my reader. Try to eliminate it from your mind. You cannot.
That he was shaken by Oppenheimer's words there is no doubt. But it was Doctor Jackson who was the arch-fiend. To him I was a novelty, and he was ever eager to see how much more I could stand before I broke. "He can stand twenty days off the bat," he bragged to the Warden in my presence. "You are conservative," I broke in. "I can stand forty days. Pshaw!
But the memory of them remains, shall always remain as long as spirit endures, and spirit is indestructible. "One thing sticks out as big as a house," was Oppenheimer's final criticism of my Adam Strang adventure. "And that is that you've done more hanging around Chinatown dumps and hop-joints than was good for a respectable college professor. Evil communications, you know.
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