Wagg was a bit testy the next night when Vaniman confessed that he had not eaten any of the soap.

“You’ve got to show absolute confidence in me—­do what I tell you to do,” insisted the guard.

“I can’t eat that soap.  It will make me sick!”

“You’ve said it!  But eat that soap—­a little at a time—­and see what the prison doctor says.  It isn’t easy to fool prison doctors—­but I’ve been on this job long enough to know how.”

That was Wagg’s longest speech to date.  His earnestness impressed the young man.  He managed to eat a bit of the soap after the guard had departed.  He ate more in the morning before his release from the cell.  He put some crumbs of the soap in his pockets and choked down the hateful substance when he found an opportunity during the day.

That night Wagg had a few more words to say on the subject.  “One of the biggest birds they ever caged at Atlanta fooled the doctors and got his pardon so that he could die outside the pen.  Did he die?  Bah-bah!  Soap!  Just soap!”

“So you think the pardon plan can be worked in my case, do you?”

“Pardon your eyes!” scoffed Wagg.  “That isn’t the idea at all!”

He fed the soap to the prisoner for many nights, but he did not give any information.  However, Wagg had the air of a man who knew well what he was about, and Vaniman was desperate enough to continue the horrible diet, having found that Mr. Wagg was a very touchy person when his policies were doubted or his good faith questioned.

Then, one day the prison doctor, who had been observing Vaniman for some time, took the bookkeeper into his office and examined him thoroughly; he gravely informed the warden that the young man had symptoms of incipient kidney trouble and ought to be less closely confined.

When Vaniman found himself out in the sunshine, intrusted with the sinecure of checking up barrow-loads of dirt which convicts wheeled past him where he sat in an armchair provided by the warden from his office, the prisoner perceived that the Wagg policies were effective in getting results.

Having added respect for Mr. Wagg’s ability in general, Vaniman was not surprised to find the guard following the favored prisoner into the new field of operations.  The young man was quite sure that the guard had not opened up on his principal plan.

One morning Wagg came with a stool and a rifle and located himself close beside the armchair; he sat on the stool and rested the rifle across his knees and smoked a corncob pipe placidly.  And there was plenty of opportunity for talk, though Wagg obtrusively kept his face turned from Vaniman’s and talked through the corner of his mouth.