the point in the alphabet where the code initialled, but they changed it
every conversation, and, often, in the midst of a conversation.

Thus, there came a day when I caught the code at the right initial,
listened to two clear sentences of conversation, and, the next time they
talked, failed to understand a word. But that first time!

"Say--Ed--what--would--
you--give--right--now--for--brown--papers--and--a--sack--of--Bull--Durham!"
asked the one who tapped from farther away.

I nearly cried out in my joy. Here was communication! Here was
companionship! I listened eagerly, and the nearer tapping, which I
guessed must be Ed Morrell's, replied:

"I--would--do--twenty--hours--strait--in--the--jacket--for--a--five--cent--sack--"

Then came the snarling interruption of the guard: "Cut that out,
Morrell!"

It may be thought by the layman that the worst has been done to men
sentenced to solitary for life, and therefore that a mere guard has no
way of compelling obedience to his order to cease tapping.

But the jacket remains. Starvation remains. Thirst remains.
Man-handling remains. Truly, a man pent in a narrow cell is very
helpless.

So the tapping ceased, and that night, when it was next resumed, I was
all at sea again. By pre-arrangement they had changed the initial letter