Over the door was a sign THOMAS LIBBY & SON, SHIP CHANDLERS AND GROCERS.
This was the notorious "Libby Prison," whose name was painfully familiar to every Union man in the land.

Under the sign was a broad entrance way, large enough to admit a dray or a small wagon.

On one side of this was the prison office, in which were a number of dapper, feeble-faced clerks at work on the prison records.
As I entered this space a squad of newly arrived prisoners were being searched for valuables, and having their names, rank and regiment recorded in the books.

Presently a clerk addressed as "Majah Tunnah," the man who was superintending these operations, and I scanned him with increased interest, as I knew then that he was the ill-famed Dick Turner, hated all over the North for his brutality to our prisoners.
He looked as if he deserved his reputation.

Seen upon the street he would be taken for a second or third class gambler, one in whom a certain amount of cunning is pieced out by a readiness to use brute force.