Nearly all of these facts had been brought to Cowperwood’s attention beforehand by Steger; but for all that, when he crossed the threshold of the jail a peculiar sensation of strangeness and defeat came over him.  He and his party were conducted to a little office to the left of the entrance, where were only a desk and a chair, dimly lighted by a low-burning gas-jet.  Sheriff Jaspers, rotund and ruddy, met them, greeting them in quite a friendly way.  Zanders was dismissed, and went briskly about his affairs.

“A bad night, isn’t it?” observed Jaspers, turning up the gas and preparing to go through the routine of registering his prisoner.  Steger came over and held a short, private conversation with him in his corner, over his desk which resulted presently in the sheriff’s face lighting up.

“Oh, certainly, certainly!  That’s all right, Mr. Steger, to be sure!  Why, certainly!”

Cowperwood, eyeing the fat sheriff from his position, understood what it was all about.  He had regained completely his critical attitude, his cool, intellectual poise.  So this was the jail, and this was the fat mediocrity of a sheriff who was to take care of him.  Very good.  He would make the best of it.  He wondered whether he was to be searched—­prisoners usually were—­but he soon discovered that he was not to be.

“That’s all right, Mr. Cowperwood,” said Jaspers, getting up.  “I guess I can make you comfortable, after a fashion.  We’re not running a hotel here, as you know”—­he chuckled to himself—­“but I guess I can make you comfortable.  John,” he called to a sleepy factotum, who appeared from another room, rubbing his eyes, “is the key to Number Six down here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me have it.”

John disappeared and returned, while Steger explained to Cowperwood that anything he wanted in the way of clothing, etc., could be brought in.  Steger himself would stop round next morning and confer with him, as would any of the members of Cowperwood’s family whom he wished to see.  Cowperwood immediately explained to his father his desire for as little of this as possible.  Joseph or Edward might come in the morning and bring a grip full of underwear, etc.; but as for the others, let them wait until he got out or had to remain permanently.  He did think of writing Aileen, cautioning her to do nothing; but the sheriff now beckoned, and he quietly followed.  Accompanied by his father and Steger, he ascended to his new room.

It was a simple, white-walled chamber fifteen by twenty feet in size, rather high-ceiled, supplied with a high-backed, yellow wooden bed, a yellow bureau, a small imitation-cherry table, three very ordinary cane-seated chairs with carved hickory-rod backs, cherry-stained also, and a wash-stand of yellow-stained wood to match the bed, containing a washbasin, a pitcher, a soap-dish, uncovered, and a small, cheap, pink-flowered tooth and shaving brush mug, which did not match the other ware and which probably cost ten cents.  The value of this room to Sheriff Jaspers was what he could get for it in cases like this—­twenty-five to thirty-five dollars a week.  Cowperwood would pay thirty-five.