w　would　he　do？　The　one　chair　was　abominable。　　The　skylight　was　weak。　　He　tried　to　think　of　himself　as　becoming　accustomed　to　the　situation；　but　he　re…discovered　the　offal　pot　in　one　corner；　and　that　discouraged　him。　　It　was　possible　that　rats　might　come　up　hereit　looked　that　way。　　No　pictures；　no　books；　no　scene；　no　person；　no　space　to　walkjust　the　four　bare　walls　and　silence；　which　he　would　be　shut　into　at　night　by　the　thick　door。　　What　a　horrible　fate！
  He　sat　down　and　contemplated　his　situation。　　So　here　he　was　at　last　in　the　Eastern　Penitentiary；　and　doomed；　according　to　the　judgment　of　the　politicians　（Butler　among　others）；　to　remain　here　four　long　years　and　longer。　　Stener；　it　suddenly　occurred　to　him；　was　probably　being　put　through　the　same　process　he　had　just　gone　through。　　Poor　old　Stener！　What　a　fool　he　had　made　of　himself。　But　because　of　his　foolishness　he　deserved　all　he　was　now　getting。　But　the　difference　between　himself　and　Stener　was　that　they　would　let　Stener　out。　　It　was　possible　that　already　they　were　easing　his　punishment　in　some　way　that　he；　Cowperwood；　did　not　know。　　He　put　his　hand　to　his　chin；　thinkinghis　business；　his　house；　his　friends；　his　family；　Aileen。　　He　felt　for　his　watch；　but　remembered　that　they　had　taken　that。　　There　was　no　way　of　telling　the　time。　Neither　had　he　any　notebook；　pen；　or　pencil　with　which　to　amuse　or　interest　himself。　　Besides　he　had　had　nothing　to　eat　since　morning。　　Still；　that　mattered　little。　　What　did　matter　was　that　he　was　shut　up　here　away　from　the　world；　quite　alone；　quite　lonely；　without　knowing　what　time　it　was；　and　that　he　could　not　attend　to　any　of　the　things　he　ought　to　be　attending　tohis　business　affairs；　his　future。　　True；　Steger　would　probably　come　to　see　him　after　a　while。　　That　would　help　a　little。　　But　even　sothink　of　his　position；　his　prospects　up　to　the　day　of　the　fire　and　his　state　now。　　He　sat　looking　at　his　shoes；　his　suit。　　God！　He　got　up　and　walked　to　and　fro；　to　and　fro；　but　his　own　steps　and　movements　sounded　so　loud。　　He　walked　to　the　cell　door　and　looked　out　through　the　thick　bars；　but　there　was　nothing　to　seenothing　save　a　portion　of　two　cell　doors　opposite；　something　like　his　own。　　He　came　back　and　sat　in　his　single　chair；　meditating；　but；　getting　weary　of　that　finally；　stretched　himself　on　the　dirty　prison　bed　to　try　it。　　It　was　not　uncomfortable　entirely。　　He　got　up　after　a　while；　however；　and　sat；　then　walked；　then　sat。　　What　a　narrow　place　to　walk；　he　thought。　　This　was　horriblesomething　like　a　living　tomb。　　And　to　think　he　should　be　here　now；　day　after　day　and　day　after　day；　untiluntil　what？　Until　the　Governor　pardoned　him　or　his　time　was　up；　or　his　fortune　eaten　awayor
  So　he　cogitated　while　the　hours　slipped　by。　　It　was　nearly　five　o'clock　before　Steger　was　able　to　return；　and　then　only　for　a　little　while。　　He　had　been　arranging　for　Cowperwood's　appearance　on　the　following　Thursday；　Friday；　and　Monday　in　his　several　court　proceedings。　　When　he　was　gone；　however；　and　the　night　fell　and　Cowperwood　had　to　trim　his　little；　shabby　oil…lamp　and　to　drink　the　strong　tea　and　eat　the　rough；　poor　bread　made　of　bran　and　white　flour；　which　was　shoved　to　him　through　the　small　aperture　in　the　door　by　the　trencher　trusty；　who　was　accompanied　by　the　overseer　to　see　that　it　was　done　properly；　he　really　felt　very　badly。　　And　after　that　the　center　wooden　door　of　his　cell　was　presently　closed　and　locked　by　a　trusty　who　slammed　it　rudely　and　said　no　word。　Nine　o'clock　would　be　sounded　somewhere　by　a　great　bell；　he　understood；　when　his　smoky　oil…lamp　would　have　to　be　put　out　promptly　and　he　would　have　to　undress　and　go　to　bed。　　There　were　punishments；　no　doubt；　for　infractions　of　these　rulesreduced　rations；　the　strait…jacket；　perhaps　stripeshe　scarcely　knew　what。　He　felt　disconsolate；　grim；　weary。　　He　had　put　up　such　a　long；　unsatisfactory　fight。　　After　washing　his　heavy　stone　cup　and　tin　plate　at　the　hydrant；　he　took　off　the　sickening　uniform　and　shoes　and　even　the　drawers　of　the　scratching　underwear；　and　stretched　himself　wearily　on　the　bed。　　The　place　was　not　any　too　warm；　and　he　tried　to　make　himself　comfortable　between　the　blanketsbut　it　was　of　little　use。　　His　soul　was　cold。
  〃This　will　never　do；〃　he　said　to　himself。　　〃This　will　never　do。　I'm　not　sure　whether　I　can　stand　much　of　this　or　not。〃　　Still　he　turned　his　face　to　the　wall；　and　after　several　hours　sleep　eventually　came。
  Chapter　LIV
  Those　who　by　any　pleasing　courtesy　of　fortune；　accident　of　birth；　inheritance；　or　the　wisdom　of　parents　or　friends；　have　succeeded　in　avoiding　making　that　anathema　of　the　prosperous　and　comfortable；　〃a　mess　of　their　lives；〃　will　scarcely　understand　the　mood　of　Cowperwood；　sitting　rather　gloomily　in　his　cell　these　first　days；　wondering　what；　in　spite　of　his　great　ingenuity；　was　to　become　of　him。　　The　strongest　have　their　hours　of　depression。　　There　are　times　when　life　to　those　endowed　with　the　greatest　intelligence　perhaps　mostly　to　thosetakes　on　a　somber　hue。　　They　see　so　many　phases　of　its　dreary　subtleties。　　It　is　only　when　the　soul　of　man　has　been　built　up　into　some　strange　self…confidence；　some　curious　faith　in　its　own　powers；　based；　no　doubt；　on　the　actual　presence　of　these　same　powers　subtly　involved　in　the　body；　that　it　fronts　life　unflinchingly。　　It　would　be　too　much　to　say　that　Cowperwood's　mind　was　of　the　first　order。　　It　was　subtle　enough　in　all　conscience　and　involved；　as　is　common　with　the　executively　great；　with　a　strong　sense　of　personal　advancement。　　It　was　a　powerful　mind；　turning；　like　a　vast　searchlight；　a　glittering　ray　into　many　a　dark　corner；　but　it　was　not　sufficiently　disinterested　to　search　the　ultimate　dark。　　He　realized；　in　a　way；　what　the　great　astronomers；　sociologists；　philosophers；　chemists；　physicists；　and　physiologists　were　meditating；　but　he　could　not　be　sure　in　his　own　mind　that；　whatever　it　was；　it　was　important　for　him。　　No　doubt　life　held　many　strange　secrets。　　Perhaps　it　was　essential　that　somebody　should　investigate　them。　　However　that　might　be；　the　call　of　his　own　soul　was　in　another　direction。　　His　business　was　to　make　money　to　organize　something　which　would　make　him　much　money；　or；　better　yet；　save　the　organization　he　had　begun。
  But　this；　as　he　now　looked　upon　it；　was　almost　impossible。　　It　had　been　too　disarranged　and　complicated　by　unfortunate　circumstances。　He　might；　as　Steger　pointed　out　to　him；　string　out　these　bankruptcy　proceedings　for　years；　tiring　out　one　creditor　and　another；　but　in　the　meantime　the　properties　involved　were　being　seriously　damaged。　Interest　charges　on　his　unsatisfied　loans　were　making　heavy　inroads；　court　costs　were　mounting　up；　and；　to　cap　it　all；　he　had　discovered　with　Steger　that　there　were　a　number　of　creditorsthose　who　had　sold　out　to　Butler；　and　incidentally　to　Mollenhauerwho　would　never　accept　anything　except　the　full　value　of　their　claims。　　His　one　hope　now　was　to　save　what　he　could　by　compromise　a　little　later；　and　to　build　up　some　sort　of　profitable　business　through　Stephen　Wingate。　　The　latter　was　coming　in　a　day　or　two；　as　soon　as　Steger　had　made　some　working　arrangement　for　him　with　Warden　Michael　Desmas　who　came　the　second　day　to　have　a　look　at　the　new　prisoner。
  Desmas　was　a　large　man　physicallyIrish　by　birth；　a　politician　by　trainingwho　had　been　one　thing　and　another　in　Philadelphia　from　a　policeman　in　his　early　days　and　a　corporal　in　the　Civil　War　to　a　ward　captain　under　Mollenhauer。　　He　was　a　canny　man；　tall；　raw…boned；　singularly　muscular…looking；　who　for　all　his　fifty…seven　years　looked　as　though　he　could　give　a　splendid　account　of　himself　in　a　physical　contest。　　His　hands　were　large　and　bony；　his　face　more　square　than　either　round　or　long；　and　his　forehead　high。　　He　had　a　vigorous　growth　of　short…clipped；　iron…gray　hair；　and　a　bristly　iron…gray　mustache；　very　short；　keen；　intelligent　blue…gray　eyes；　a　florid　complexion；　and　even…edged；　savage…looking　teeth；　which　showed　the　least　bit　in　a　slightly　wolfish　way　when　he　smiled。　However；　he　was　not　as　cruel　a　person　as　he　looked　to　be；　temperamental；　to　a　certain　extent　hard；　and　on　occasions　savage；　but　with　kindly　hours　also。　　His　greatest　weakness　was　that　he　was　not　quite　mentally　able　to　recognize　that　there　were　mental　and　social　differences　between　prisoners；　and　that　now　and　then　one　was　apt　to　appear　here　who；　with　or　without　political　influences；　was　eminently　worthy　of　special　consideration。　　What　he　could　recognize　was　the　differences　pointed　out　to　him　by　the　politicians　in　special　cases；　such　as　that　of　Stenernot　Cowperwood。　　However；　seeing　that　the　prison　was　a　public　institution　apt　to　be　visited　at　any　time　by　lawyers；　detectives；　doctors；　preachers；　propagandists；　and　the　public　generally；　and　that　certain　rules　and　regulations　had　to　be　enforced　（if　for　no　other　reason　than　to　keep　a　moral　and　administrative　control　over　his　own　help）；　it　was　necessary　to　maintainand　that　even　in　the　face　of　the　politiciana　certain　amount　of　discipline；　system；　and　order；　and　it　was　not　possible　to　be　too　liberal　with　any　one。　　There　were；　however；　exceptional　casesmen　of　wealth　and　refinement；　victims　of　those　occasional　uprisings　which　so　shocked　the　political　leaders　generallywho　had　to　be　looked　after　in　a　frien