"What I'm afraid of is that they'll keep us locked up until the Fourth is over." "You ain't smart ef they do!" cried a voice from one of the cells.

It was a deep bass voice that sent a chill through me.
"Who are you ?" said Jack Harris, addressing the cells in general; for the echoing qualities of the room made it difficult to locate the voice.
"That don't matter," replied the speaker, putting his face close up to the gratings of No.

3, "but ef I was a youngster like you, free an' easy outside there, this spot wouldn't hold me long." "That's so!" chimed several of the prison-birds, wagging their heads behind the iron lattices.
"Hush!" whispered Jack Harris, rising from his seat and walking on tip-toe to the door of cell No.3.

"What would you do ?" "Do?
Why, I'd pile them 'ere benches up agin that 'ere door, an' crawl out of that 'erc winder in no time.

That's my adwice." "And werry good adwice it is, Jim," said the occupant of No.