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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 113/210
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Hour
by
hour
,
after
the
warden
's
discomfited
departure
,
I
rapped
on
and
on
the
tale
of
my
adventures
.
Not
until
that
night
,
when
Pie-Face
Jones
came
on
duty
and
proceeded
to
steal
his
customary
naps
,
were
Morrell
and
Oppenheimer
able
to
do
any
talking
.
"
Pipe
dreams
,
"
Oppenheimer
rapped
his
verdict
.
Yes
,
was
my
thought
;
our
experiences
are
the
stuff
of
our
dreams
.
"
When
I
was
a
night
messenger
I
hit
the
hop
once
,
"
Oppenheimer
continued
.
"
And
I
want
to
tell
you
you
have
n't
anything
on
me
when
it
came
to
seeing
things
.
I
guess
that
is
what
all
the
novel-writers
do
--
hit
the
hop
so
as
to
throw
their
imagination
into
the
high
gear
.
"
But
Ed
Morrell
,
who
had
travelled
the
same
road
as
I
,
although
with
different
results
,
believed
my
tale
.
He
said
that
when
his
body
died
in
the
jacket
,
and
he
himself
went
forth
from
prison
,
he
was
never
anybody
but
Ed
Morrell
.
He
never
experienced
previous
existences
.
When
his
spirit
wandered
free
,
it
wandered
always
in
the
present
.
As
he
told
us
,
just
as
he
was
able
to
leave
his
body
and
gaze
upon
it
lying
in
the
jacket
on
the
cell
floor
,
so
could
he
leave
the
prison
,
and
,
in
the
present
,
revisit
San
Francisco
and
see
what
was
occurring
.
In
this
manner
he
had
visited
his
mother
twice
,
both
times
finding
her
asleep
.
In
this
spirit-roving
he
said
he
had
no
power
over
material
things
.
He
could
not
open
or
close
a
door
,
move
any
object
,
make
a
noise
,
nor
manifest
his
presence
.
On
the
other
hand
,
material
things
had
no
power
over
him
.
Walls
and
doors
were
not
obstacles
.
The
entity
,
or
the
real
thing
that
was
he
,
was
thought
,
spirit
.
"
The
grocery
store
on
the
corner
,
half
a
block
from
where
mother
lived
,
changed
hands
,
"
he
told
us
.
"
I
knew
it
by
the
different
sign
over
the
place
.
I
had
to
wait
six
months
after
that
before
I
could
write
my
first
letter
,
but
when
I
did
I
asked
mother
about
it
.
And
she
said
yes
,
it
had
changed
.
"
"
Did
you
read
that
grocery
sign
?
"
Jake
Oppenheimer
asked
.
"
Sure
thing
I
did
,
"
was
Morrell
's
response
.
"
Or
how
could
I
have
known
it
?
"
"
All
right
,
"
rapped
Oppenheimer
the
unbelieving
.
"
You
can
prove
it
easy
.
Some
time
,
when
they
shift
some
decent
guards
on
us
that
will
give
us
a
peep
at
a
newspaper
,
you
get
yourself
thrown
into
the
jacket
,
climb
out
of
your
body
,
and
sashay
down
to
little
old
'
Frisco
.
Slide
up
to
Third
and
Market
just
about
two
or
three
a.m.
when
they
are
running
the
morning
papers
off
the
press
.
Read
the
latest
news
.
Then
make
a
swift
sneak
for
San
Quentin
,
get
here
before
the
newspaper
tug
crosses
the
bay
,
and
tell
me
what
you
read
.
Then
we
'll
wait
and
get
a
morning
paper
,
when
it
comes
in
,
from
a
guard
.
Then
,
if
what
you
told
me
is
in
that
paper
,
I
am
with
you
to
a
fare-you-well
.
"
It
was
a
good
test
.
I
could
not
but
agree
with
Oppenheimer
that
such
a
proof
would
be
absolute
.
