interrogated。　　He　came　back　two　hours　lateror；　rather；　they
  conveyed　him　back；　and　threw　him　on　the　stone　of　his　dungeon　floor。
  They　then　took　away　Luigi　Polazzo；　a　San　Francisco　hoodlum；　the
  first　native　generation　of　Italian　parentage；　who　jeered　and　sneered
  at　them　and　challenged　them　to　wreak　their　worst　upon　him。
  It　was　some　time　before　Long　Bill　Hodge　mastered　his　pain
  sufficiently　to　be　coherent。
  〃What　about　this　dynamite？〃　he　demanded。　　〃Who　knows　anything　about
  dynamite？〃
  And　of　course　nobody　knew；　although　it　had　been　the　burden　of　the
  interrogation　put　to　him。
  Luigi　Polazzo　came　back　in　a　little　less　than　two　hours；　and　he　came
  back　a　wreck　that　babbled　in　delirium　and　could　give　no　answer　to
  the　questions　showered　upon　him　along　the　echoing　corridor　of
  dungeons　by　the　men　who　were　yet　to　get　what　he　had　got；　and　who
  desired　greatly　to　know　what　things　had　been　done　to　him　and　what
  interrogations　had　been　put　to　him。
  Twice　again　in　the　next　forty…eight　hours　Luigi　was　taken　out　and
  interrogated。　　After　that；　a　gibbering　imbecile；　he　went　to　live　in
  Bughouse　Alley。　　He　has　a　strong　constitution。　　His　shoulders　are
  broad；　his　nostrils　wide；　his　chest　is　deep；　his　blood　is　pure；　he
  will　continue　to　gibber　in　Bughouse　Alley　long　after　I　have　swung
  off　and　escaped　the　torment　of　the　penitentiaries　of　California。
  Man　after　man　was　taken　away；　one　at　a　time；　and　the　wrecks　of　men
  were　brought　back；　one　by　one；　to　rave　and　howl　in　the　darkness。
  And　as　I　lay　there　and　listened　to　the　moaning　and　the　groaning；　and
  all　the　idle　chattering　of　pain…addled　wits；　somehow；　vaguely
  reminiscent；　it　seemed　to　me　that　somewhere；　some　time；　I　had　sat　in
  a　high　place；　callous　and　proud；　and　listened　to　a　similar　chorus　of
  moaning　and　groaning。　　Afterwards；　as　you　shall　learn；　I　identified
  this　reminiscence　and　knew　that　the　moaning　and　the　groaning　was　of
  the　sweep…slaves　manacled　to　their　benches；　which　I　heard　from
  above；　on　the　poop；　a　soldier　passenger　on　a　galley　of　old　Rome。
  That　was　when　I　sailed　for　Alexandria；　a　captain　of　men；　on　my　way
  to　Jerusalem　。　。　。　but　that　is　a　story　I　shall　tell　you　later。　　In
  the　meanwhile　。　。　。　。
  CHAPTER　IV
  In　the　meanwhile　obtained　the　horror　of　the　dungeons；　after　the
  discovery　of　the　plot　to　break　prison。　　And　never；　during　those
  eternal　hours　of　waiting；　was　it　absent　from　my　consciousness　that　I
  should　follow　these　other　convicts　out；　endure　the　hells　of
  inquisition　they　endured；　and　be　brought　back　a　wreck　and　flung　on
  the　stone　floor　of　my　stone…walled；　iron…doored　dungeon。
  They　came　for　me。　　Ungraciously　and　ungently；　with　blow　and　curse；
  they　haled　me　forth；　and　I　faced　Captain　Jamie　and　Warden　Atherton；
  themselves　arrayed　with　the　strength　of　half　a　dozen　state…bought；
  tax…paid　brutes　of　guards　who　lingered　in　the　room　to　do　any
  bidding。　　But　they　were　not　needed。
  〃Sit　down；〃　said　Warden　Atherton；　indicating　a　stout　arm…chair。
  I；　beaten　and　sore；　without　water　for　a　night　long　and　a　day　long；
  faint　with　hunger；　weak　from　a　beating　that　had　been　added　to　five
  days　in　the　dungeon　and　eighty　hours　in　the　jacket；　oppressed　by　the
  calamity　of　human　fate；　apprehensive　of　what　was　to　happen　to　me
  from　what　I　had　seen　happen　to　the　othersI；　a　wavering　waif　of　a
  human　man　and　an　erstwhile　professor　of　agronomy　in　a　quiet　college
  town；　I　hesitated　to　accept　the　invitation　to　sit　down。
  Warden　Atherton　was　a　large　man　and　a　very　powerful　man。　　His　hands
  flashed　out　to　a　grip　on　my　shoulders。　　I　was　a　straw　in　his
  strength。　　He　lifted　me　clear　of　the　floor　and　crashed　me　down　in
  the　chair。
  〃　Now；〃　he　said；　while　I　gasped　and　swallowed　my　pain；　〃tell　me　all
  about　it；　Standing。　　Spit　it　outall　of　it；　if　you　know　what's
  healthy　for　you。〃
  〃I　don't　know　anything　about　what　has　happened　。　。　。〃；　I　began。
  That　was　as　far　as　I　got。　　With　a　growl　and　a　leap　he　was　upon　me。
  Again　he　lifted　me　in　the　air　and　crashed　me　down　into　the　chair。
  〃No　nonsense；　Standing；〃　he　warned。　　〃Make　a　clean　breast　of　it。
  Where　is　the　dynamite？〃
  〃I　don't　know　anything　of　any　dynamite；〃　I　protested。
  Once　again　I　was　lifted　and　smashed　back　into　the　chair。
  I　have　endured　tortures　of　various　sorts；　but　when　I　reflect　upon
  them　in　the　quietness　of　these　my　last　days；　I　am　confident　that　no
  other　torture　was　quite　the　equal　of　that　chair　torture。　　By　my　body
  that　stout　chair　was　battered　out　of　any　semblance　of　a　chair。
  Another　chair　was　brought；　and　in　time　that　chair　was　demolished。
  But　more　chairs　were　brought；　and　the　eternal　questioning　about　the
  dynamite　went　on。
  When　Warden　Atherton　grew　tired；　Captain　Jamie　relieved　him；　and
  then　the　guard　Monohan　took　Captain　Jamie's　place　in　smashing　me
  down　into　the　chair。　　And　always　it　was　dynamite；　dynamite；　〃Where
  is　the　dynamite？〃　and　there　was　no　dynamite。　　Why；　toward　the　last　I
  would　have　given　a　large　portion　of　my　immortal　soul　for　a　few
  pounds　of　dynamite　to　which　I　could　confess。
  I　do　not　know　how　many　chairs　were　broken　by　my　body。　　I　fainted
  times　without　number；　and　toward　the　last　the　whole　thing　became
  nightmarish。　　I　was　half…carried；　half…shoved　and　dragged　back　to
  the　dark。　　There；　when　I　became　conscious；　I　found　a　stool　in　my
  dungeon。　　He　was　a　pallid…faced；　little　dope…fiend　of　a　short…timer
  who　would　do　anything　to　obtain　the　drug。　　As　soon　as　I　recognized
  him　I　crawled　to　the　grating　and　shouted　out　along　the　corridor：
  〃There　is　a　stool　in　with　me；　fellows！　　He's　Ignatius　Irvine！　　Watch
  out　what　you　say！〃
  The　outburst　of　imprecations　that　went　up　would　have　shaken　the
  fortitude　of　a　braver　man　than　Ignatius　Irvine。　　He　was　pitiful　in
  his　terror；　while　all　about　him；　roaring　like　beasts；　the　pain…
  racked　lifers　told　him　what　awful　things　they　would　do　to　him　in　the
  years　that　were　to　come。
  Had　there　been　secrets；　the　presence　of　a　stool　in　the　dungeons
  would　have　kept　the　men　quiet；　As　it　was；　having　all　sworn　to　tell
  the　truth；　they　talked　openly　before　Ignatius　Irvine。　　The　one　great
  puzzle　was　the　dynamite；　of　which　they　were　as　much　in　the　dark　as
  was　I。　　They　appealed　to　me。　　If　I　knew　anything　about　the　dynamite
  they　begged　me　to　confess　it　and　save　them　all　from　further　misery。
  And　I　could　tell　them　only　the　truth；　that　I　knew　of　no　dynamite。
  One　thing　the　stool　told　me；　before　the　guards　removed　him；　showed
  how　serious　was　this　matter　of　the　dynamite。　　Of　course；　I　passed
  the　word　along；　which　was　that　not　a　wheel　had　turned　in　the　prison
  all　day。　　The　thousands　of　convict…workers　had　remained　locked　in
  their　cells；　and　the　outlook　was　that　not　one　of　the　various　prison…
  factories　would　be　operated　again　until　after　the　discovery　of　some
  dynamite　that　somebody　had　hidden　somewhere　in　the　prison。
  And　ever　the　examination　went　on。　　Ever；　one　at　a　time；　convicts
  were　dragged　away　and　dragged　or　carried　back　again。　　They　reported
  that　Warden　Atherton　and　Captain　Jamie；　exhausted　by　their　efforts；
  relieved　each　other　every　two　hours。　　While　one　slept；　the　other
  examined。　　And　they　slept　in　their　clothes　in　the　very　room　in　which
  strong　man　after　strong　man　was　being　broken。
  And　hour　by　hour；　in　the　dark　dungeons；　our　madness　of　torment　grew。
  Oh；　trust　me　as　one　who　knows；　hanging　is　an　easy　thing　compared
  with　the　way　live　men　may　be　hurt　in　all　the　life　of　them　and　still
  live。　　I；　too；　suffered　equally　with　them　from　pain　and　thirst；　but
  added　to　my　suffering　was　the　fact　that　I　remained　conscious　to　the
  sufferings　of　the　others。　　I　had　been　an　incorrigible　for　two　years；
  and　my　nerves　and　brain　were　hardened　to　suffering。　　It　is　a
  frightful　thing　to　see　a　strong　man　broken。　　About　me；　at　the　one
  time；　were　forty　strong　men　being　broken。　　Ever　the　cry　for　water
  went　up；　and　the　place　became　lunatic　with　the　crying；　sobbing；
  babbling　and　raving　of　men　in　delirium。
  Don't　you　see？　　Our　truth；　the　very　truth　we　told；　was　our
  damnation。　　When　forty　men　told　the　same　things　with　such　unanimity；
  Warden　Atherton　and　Captain　Jamie　could　only　conclude　that　the
  testimony　was　a　memorized　lie　which　each　of　the　forty　rattled　off
  parrot…like。
  From　the　standpoint　of　the　authorities；　their　situation　was　as
  desperate　as　ours。　　As　I　learned　afterward；　the　Board　of　Prison
  Directors　had　been　summoned　by　telegraph；　and　two　companies　of　state
  militia　were　being　rushed　to　the　prison。
  It　was　winter　weather；　and　the　frost　is　sometimes　shrewd　even　in　a
  California　winter。　　We　had　no　blankets　in　the　dungeons。　　Please　know
  that　it　is　very　cold　to　stretch　bruised　human　flesh　on　frosty　stone。
  In　the　end　they　did　give　us　water。　　Jeering　and　cursing　us；　the
  guards　ran　in　the　fire…hoses　and　played　the　fierce　streams　on　us；
  dungeon　by　dungeon；　hour　after　hour；　until　our　bruised　flesh　was
  battered　all　anew　by　the　violence　with　which　the　water　smote　us；
  unt