"March!" shouted his own warders, and they hustled him along, and at the next minute he was gone. Then the bell stopped for an instant, for Michael Sunlocks had raised his head to look upon the man who had spoken. He did not see Jason's face, but his own face softened at the words he had heard and his bloodshot eyes grew dim.
"Go on!" cried the warder with the musket, and the bell began again.
All that day the face of Michael Sunlocks haunted the memory of Red Jason.
"Who was that man?" he asked of the prisoner who worked by his side.
"How should I know?" the other fellow answered sulkily.
In a space of rest Jason leaned on his shovel, wiped his brow, and said to his warder, "What was that man's name?"
"A 25," the warder answered moodily.
"I asked for his name," said Jason.
"What's
