Page:Under three flags; a story of mystery (IA underthreeflagss00tayliala).pdf/13

 "I have no home to go to," finally responds Stanley, lifting his eyes for the first time since his entrance to the room.

"No home?" repeats the warden, sympathetically. "But surely you must want to go somewhere. You can't stay in Windsor."

Stanley is thoughtful. "Perhaps you had better make the station Raymond," he decides, and he meets squarely the surprised and questioning look of the warden.

"But that is the place you were sent from."

"Yes."

"It is not your home? No; I believe you just stated that you had no home."

"I have none."

"And you wish to revisit the scene of your—your trouble?"

Stanley's gaze wanders to the open window and across the valley.

"Well, it's your own affair," says the warden, turning to his desk. "The fare to Raymond is $2.50. I am also authorized to give you $5 cash, to which I have added $10. You have assisted me about the books of the institution and have been in every respect a model prisoner. In fact," supplements Mr. Chase, with a smile, "under different circumstances I should be sorry to part with you."

"Thank you," acknowledges Stanley, in the same impassive tones.

"And now, my boy," counsels the warden, laying one hand kindly on the young man's shoulder, "try to make your future life such that you will never be compelled to see the inside of another house of this kind. I am something of a judge of character. I am confident that you have the making of a man in you. Here are your things," as the attendant arrives with Stanley's effects.

Mr. Chase resumes his writing and Stanley withdraws. Once within the familiar cell, which is soon to know him no more, his whole mood changes.

"Free!" he breathes, exultingly, raising his clasped hands to heaven. "What matter it if my freedom be of