Yollop | Page 9

world. Free grub, free bed, free doctor, free
clothes,--he could have free liquor if the keepers would let his friends
bring it in,--and his hours ain't any longer than any union man's hours.
He don't have to pay dues to any labor union, he don't have to worry
about strikes or strike benefits, he don't give a whoop what Gompers or
anybody else says about Gary, and he don't care a darn whether the
working man gets his beer or whether the revenue officers get it. He--"
"Wait a second, please. Just as a matter of curiosity, Cassius, I'd like to
know what your views are on prohibition."
"Are you thinkin' of askin' me if I'll have something to drink?" inquired
Mr. Smilk craftily.
"What has that to do with it?"
"A lot," said Mr. Smilk, with decision.
"Do you approve of prohibition?"
"I do," said the rogue. "In moderation."
"Well, as soon as the police arrive I'll open a bottle of Scotch. In the
meantime go ahead with your very illuminating dissertation. I am
beginning to understand why crime is so attractive, so alluring. I am
almost able to see why you fellows like to go to the penitentiary."
"If you could only get shut up for a couple of years, Mr. Wollop, you'd
appreciate just what has been done in the last few years to make us
fellers like it. You wouldn't believe how much the reformers have done
to induce us to come back as soon as possible. They give us all kinds of
entertainment, free of charge. Three times a week we have some sort of
a show, generally a band concert, a movin' picture show and a
vaudeville show. Then, once a month they bring up some crackin' good
show right out of a Broadway theater to make us forget that it's Sunday
and we'll have to go to work the next morning. Scenery and costumes
and everything and--and--" Here Mr. Smilk showed signs of blubbering,
a weakness that suddenly gave way to the most energetic indignation.
"Why, doggone it, every time I think of what that woman done to me, I
could bite a nail in two. If it hadn't been for--"
"Woman? What woman?"
"The woman that got me paroled out. She got I don't know how many
people to sign a petition, sayin' I was a fine feller and all that kind o'

bunk, and all I needed was a chance to show the world how honest I am
and--why, of course, I was honest. How could I help bein' honest up
there? What's eatin' the darn fools? The only thing you can steal up
there is a nap, and you got to be mighty slick if you want to do that,
they watch you so close. But do you know what's going on in this
country right now, Mr. Popple? There's a regular organized band of
law-breakers operating from one end of the nation to the other. We're
tryin' to bust it up, but it's a tough job. The best way to reform a
reformer is to rob him. The minute he finds out he's been robbed he
turns over a new leaf and begins to beller like a bull about how rotten
the police are. Ninety nine times out of a hundred he quits his cussed
interferin' with the law and becomes a decent, law-observin' citizen.
Our scheme is to get busy as soon as we've been turned loose and while
our so-called benefactors are still rejoicin' over havin' snatched a brand
from the burnin', we up and show 'em the error of their ways. First
offenders get off fairly easy. We simply sneak in and take their silver
and some loose jewelry. The more hardened they are, the worse we
treat 'em. Eing leaders some times get beat up so badly it's impossible
to identify 'em at the morgue. But in time we'll smash the gang, and
then if a feller goes up for ten, twenty or even thirty years he'll know
there's no underhanded work goin' on and he can settle down to an
honest life. The only way to stop crime in this country, Mr. Yollop, is
to--"
"Thank you."
"--is to make EVERYBODY respect the law. And with conditions so
pleasant and so happy in the prison I want to tell you there's nobody in
the country that respects and admires the law more than we
do,--'specially us fellers that remember what the penitentiaries used to
be like a few years ago when conditions were so tough that most of us
managed to earn an honest livin' outside sooner than run the risk of
gettin' sent up." He sighed deeply. Then with a trace of real solicitude
in his manner: "Are your feet warm yet?"
"Warm as