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Updated: June 27, 2025
After he had had a few fits in the prison-yard, the guards refused to be bothered with him any more, and so he remained locked up in his cell all day with a Cockney cell-mate, to keep him company. Not that the Cockney was of any use. Whenever the Dutch boy had a fit, the Cockney became paralyzed with terror. The Dutch boy could not speak a word of English.
One evening, just before Slippery had finished his last sentence, after the prisoners had been locked up for the night, his cell-mate in a spirit of fun suggested that, to while away the time until the lights would be turned low, they compute the average daily wage their crime-steeped lives had earned for them.
Very carefully, as his former cell-mate had taught him, he made his preparations, substituting a sixty- for a six-ampere fuse which would give him, the old cracksman had said, "juice" enough to cut through the ribs of a war-ship and clamping one strand of his extension wire to the safe door.
No beast of the wilderness ever had such terror for me as the unknown thing that had been my cell-mate half a night without my knowledge. Was a vampire a demon a witch a ghost locked in there with me? It moaned again, so faintly, that compassion instantly got the better of superstition. "Who is there?"
"I'll get one of the hall-men fired and have you put in his place." He put his hand into his shirt, drew out the handkerchief containing my precious belongings, passed it in to me through the bars, and went on down the gallery. I opened the bundle. Everything was there. Not even a match was missing. I shared the makings of a cigarette with my cell-mate.
It would last for hours, and my cell-mate called it a "punk." And when it burned short, all that was necessary was to make a new punk, put the end of it against the old, blow on them, and so transfer the glowing coal. Why, we could have given Prometheus pointers on the conserving of fire. At twelve o'clock dinner was served.
My cell-mate was Lieutenant H.G. Dorr of the 4th Massachusetts Cavalry, with whom I journeyed by rail back to Columbia, arriving at "Camp Sorghum" about the 1st of November. I rejoined the mess of Lieutenant Byers, and introduced to the others Lieutenant Dorr, whose cool assurance was a prize that procured us all the blessings possible.
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