“Y-y-yes, sir,” said Peter.
There was once, so legend declares, a darky who said
that he liked to stub his toe because it felt so good
when it stopped hurting. On this same principle
Peter had a happy time in the hospital of the American
City jail. He had a comfortable bed, and plenty
to eat, and absolutely nothing to do. His sore
joints became gradually healed, and he gained half
a pound a day in weight, and his busy mind set to
work to study the circumstances about him, to find
out how he could perpetuate these comfortable conditions,
and add to them the little luxuries which make life
really worth living.
In charge of this hospital was an old man by the name
of Doobman. He had been appointed because he
was the uncle of an alderman, and he had held the
job for the last six years, and during that time had
gained weight almost as rapidly as Peter was gaining.
He had now come to a condition where he did not like
to get out of his armchair if it could be avoided.
Peter discovered this, and so found it possible to
make himself useful in small ways. Also Mr. Doobman
had a secret vice; he took snuff, and for the sake
of discipline he did not want this dreadful fact to
become known. Therefore he would wait until everybody’s
back was turned before he took a pinch of snuff; and
Peter learned this, and would tactfully turn his back.
Everybody in this hospital had some secret vice, and
it was Mr. Doobman’s duty to repress the vices
of the others. The inmates of the hospital included
many of the prisoners who had money, and could pay
to make themselves comfortable. They wanted tobacco,
whiskey, cocaine and other drugs, and some of them
wanted a chance to practice unnamable horrors.
All the money they could smuggle in they were ready
to spend for license to indulge themselves. As
for the attendants in the hospital, they were all
political appointees, derelicts who had been unable
to hold a job in the commercial world, and had sought
an easy berth, like Peter himself. They took bribes,
and were prepared to bribe Peter to outwit Mr. Doobman;
Mr. Doobman, on the other hand, was prepared to reward
Peter with many favors, if Peter would consent to
bring him secret information. In such a situation
it was possible for a man with his wits about him to
accumulate quite a little capital.
For the most part Peter stuck by Doobman; having learned
by bitter experience that in the long run it pays
to be honest. Doobman was referred to by the
other attendants as the “Old Man”; and
always in Peter’s life, from the very dawn of
childhood, there had been some such “Old Man,”
the fountain-head of authority, the dispenser of creature
comforts. First had been “Old Man”
Drubb, who from early morning until late at night
wore green spectacles, and a sign across his chest,
“I am blind,” and made a weary little child
lead him thru the streets by the hand. At night,
when they got home to their garret-room, “Old
Man” Drubb would take off his green goggles,
and was perfectly able to see Peter, and if Peter
had made the slightest mistake during the day he would
beat him.
