Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter IX
“Well,whatbringsyoudownhereagain,Mr.Presley?”heobserved.“Ithoughtwehadseenthelastofyou.”
“Icamedowntosaygood-byetomyfriends,”answeredPresleyshortly.
“Goingaway?”
“Yes—toIndia.”
“Well,uponmyword.Foryourhealth,hey?”
“Yes.”
“YouLOOKknockedup,”assertedtheother.“Bytheway,”headded,“Isupposeyou’veheardthenews?”
Presleyshrankalittle.Oflatethereportsofdisastershadfollowedsoswiftlyupononeanotherthathehadbeguntotrembleandtoquailateveryunexpectedbitofinformation.
“Whatnewsdoyoumean?”heasked.
“AboutDyke.Hehasbeenconvicted.Thejudgesentencedhimforlife.”
Forlife!RidingonbythesideofthismanthroughtheranchesbytheCountyRoad,Presleyrepeatedthesewordstohimselftillthefulleffectofthemburstatlastuponhim.
Jailedforlife!Nooutlook.Nohopeforthefuture.Dayafterday,yearafteryear,totreadtheroundsofthesamegloomymonotony.Hesawthegreystonewalls,theirondoors;theflaggingofthe“yard”bareofgrassortrees—thecell,narrow,bald,cheerless;theprisongarb,theprisonfare,androundallthegrimgraniteofinsuperablebarriers,shuttingouttheworld,shuttinginthemanwithoutcasts,withthepariahdogsofsociety,thieves,murderers,menbelowthebeasts,losttoalldecency,druggedwithopium,utterreprobates.Tothis,Dykehadbeenbrought,Dyke,thanwhomnomanhadbeenmorehonest,morecourageous,morejovial.Thiswastheendofhim,aprison;thiswashisfinalestate,acriminal.
