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"
I
do
n't
suppose
I
'm
so
scared
either
,
"
replied
Clyde
,
trying
to
modify
his
first
,
quick
and
unintended
confession
.
"
Well
,
that
's
good
.
Be
game
.
We
all
have
to
be
here
--
or
the
whole
place
would
go
crazy
.
Better
breathe
a
little
.
Or
walk
fast
.
It
'll
do
you
good
.
"
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He
moved
away
a
few
paces
and
began
exercising
his
arms
while
Clyde
stood
there
,
saying
--
almost
loudly
--
so
shaken
was
he
still
:
"
We
all
have
to
be
or
the
whole
place
would
go
crazy
.
"
That
was
true
,
as
he
could
see
and
feel
after
that
first
night
.
Crazy
,
indeed
.
Tortured
to
death
,
maybe
,
by
being
compelled
to
witness
these
terrible
and
completely
destroying
--
and
for
each
--
impending
tragedies
.
But
how
long
would
he
have
to
endure
this
?
How
long
would
he
?
In
the
course
of
a
day
or
two
,
again
he
found
this
death
house
was
not
quite
like
that
either
--
not
all
terror
--
on
the
surface
at
least
.
It
was
in
reality
--
and
in
spite
of
impending
death
in
every
instance
,
a
place
of
taunt
and
jibe
and
jest
--
even
games
,
athletics
,
the
stage
--
all
forms
of
human
contest
of
skill
--
or
the
arguments
on
every
conceivable
topic
from
death
and
women
to
lack
of
it
,
as
far
at
least
as
the
general
low
intelligence
of
the
group
permitted
.
For
the
most
part
,
as
soon
as
breakfast
was
over
--
among
those
who
were
not
called
upon
to
join
the
first
group
for
exercise
,
there
were
checkers
or
cards
,
two
games
that
were
played
--
not
with
a
single
set
of
checkers
or
a
deck
of
cards
between
groups
released
from
their
cells
,
but
by
one
of
the
ever
present
keepers
providing
two
challenging
prisoners
(
if
it
were
checkers
)
with
one
checker
-
board
but
no
checkers
.
They
were
not
needed
.
Thereafter
the
opening
move
was
called
by
one
.
"
I
move
from
G
2
to
E
1
"
--
each
square
being
numbered
--
each
side
lettered
.
The
moves
checked
with
a
pencil
.
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Thereafter
the
second
party
--
having
recorded
this
move
on
his
own
board
and
having
studied
the
effect
of
it
on
his
own
general
position
,
would
call
:
"
I
move
from
E
7
to
F
5
.
"
If
more
of
those
present
decided
to
join
in
this
--
either
on
one
side
or
the
other
,
additional
boards
and
pencils
were
passed
to
each
signifying
his
desire
.
Then
Shorty
Bristol
,
desiring
to
aid
"
Dutch
"
Swighort
,
three
cells
down
,
might
call
:
"
I
would
n't
do
that
,
Dutch
.
Wait
a
minute
,
there
's
a
better
move
than
that
.
"
And
so
on
with
taunts
,
oaths
,
laughter
,
arguments
,
according
to
the
varying
fortunes
and
difficulties
of
the
game
.
And
so
,
too
,
with
cards
.
These
were
played
with
each
man
locked
in
his
cell
,
yet
quite
as
successfully
.
But
Clyde
did
not
care
for
cards
--
or
for
these
jibing
and
coarse
hours
of
conversation
.
There
was
for
him
--
and
with
the
exception
of
the
speech
of
one
--
Nicholson
--
alone
,
too
much
ribald
and
even
brutal
talk
which
he
could
not
appreciate
.
But
he
was
drawn
to
Nicholson
.
He
was
beginning
to
think
after
a
time
--
a
few
days
--
that
this
lawyer
--
his
presence
and
companionship
during
the
exercise
hour
--
whenever
they
chanced
to
be
in
the
same
set
--
could
help
him
to
endure
this
.
He
was
the
most
intelligent
and
respectable
man
here
.
The
others
were
all
so
different
--
taciturn
at
times
--
and
for
the
most
part
so
sinister
,
crude
or
remote
.
But
then
and
that
not
more
than
a
week
after
his
coming
here
--
and
when
,
because
of
his
interest
in
Nicholson
,
he
was
beginning
to
feel
slightly
sustained
at
least
--
the
execution
of
Pasquale
Cutrone
,
of
Brooklyn
,
an
Italian
,
convicted
of
the
slaying
of
his
brother
for
attempting
to
seduce
his
wife
.
He
had
one
of
the
cells
nearest
the
transverse
passage
,
so
Clyde
learned
after
arriving
,
and
had
in
part
lost
his
mind
from
worrying
.
At
any
rate
he
was
invariably
left
in
his
cell
when
the
others
--
in
groups
of
six
--
were
taken
for
exercise
.
But
the
horror
of
his
emaciated
face
,
as
Clyde
passed
and
occasionally
looked
in
--
a
face
divided
into
three
grim
panels
by
two
gutters
or
prison
lines
of
misery
that
led
from
the
eyes
to
the
corners
of
the
mouth
.