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Show mustering all his strength just to hang on and Tight the cold, which never seemed to go away now. He no longer disliked cold corn dodgers, dodg-ers, devouring them like a starving wolf. With shackles on both wrists, the only way he could reach his mouth to feed himself was to sit against the wall and curl into a tight ball. He could no longer reach his hair at all. Without care it soon became a matted wad of greasy filth. Sometimes he spent hours trying to follow the travels of a single lice in its search for food across his scalp a task that became be-came impossible as the number of lice increased. With the shackles on his hands and feet the sanitary handling of his bathroom functions became impossible. While his own smelling smell-ing senses were deadened from constant exposure, he knew anyone any-one coming to his cell from the outside would be sickened by the stench. (To be continued) Bpiefiddled with the wire hole for several hours. It 'Sningtoget light. He was '"Ye out of time. iiv he knew if he was not fietcaughthebetterreturn J;7 With the help of gravity :tltllSCepasV dropping back down he hole to his 'Trarefully he put the stovepipe k in P'ace' hoping the gUards 3 ,j not notice the missing When the guards entered the 'that morning, Port was lying "Lted on his pile of dirty straw, ined to try again thecoming i tiling through the hole the ind night was more difficult.-t difficult.-t iust didn't quite have the Jgth to push himself all the "v through. The heavy shackles " his ankles didn't help any. He d again and again, feeling his s get weaker each time he failed. His naked body was black from the soot of the chimney and streaked with red, his own blood from cuts caused by the jagged edges of the logs. He didn't know where the strength finally came from, but finally, using every last ounce of energy, he wiggled once more into the jail office. Getting his wire he resumed picking at the front door lock. He had picked locks before, but this one must have had some different workings, because he simply could not get the bolt to move. This time he didn't notice the first light or morning, so determined deter-mined was he to conquer the lock. It didn't help that his hands were shaking. He could hardly keep his knees from buckling. He began to feel dizzy. The room began to spin. When the jailers entered the jail that morning they found their pris oner unconscious on the floor naked, black and streaked with blood. By the time Reynolds arrived Rockwell had been revived with a bucket of cold water. Without a word, the sheriff walked over to the drawer and pulled out a second pair of shackles. When he was through, Port had one shackle connectinghis left wrist to his right ankle, and the other connectinghis right wrist to his left ankle. The chains connecting the bracelets were not sufficiently long to allow Port to stand up straight. "Let's see you crawl through the hole now," Reynolds growled. Crouched over like an ape, Port shuffled towards his basement cell. Behind him he could hear Reynolds ordering the guards to cut the prisoner's rations in half. In the weeks to come Port crouched in the corner of his cell |