THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM The county jail in Cedar County was a plain, brick structure set in the midst of the Court House Square.

Connected with it was the official residence of the sheriff, and brick walks ran diagonally from corner to corner for the convenience of citizens.

Over these walks magnificent maples flung gorgeous banners in autumn, and it was a favorite promenade for the young people of the town at all seasons, even in winter.
At times when the jail was filled with disorderly inmates these innocent lovers could hear the wild yells and see the insulting gestures of the men at the windows, but ordinarily the grounds were quiet and peaceful.
The robins nested in the maples, the squirrels scampered from tree to tree, and little children tumbled about on the grass, unmindful of the sullen captives within the walls.
For seven years Harold himself had played about this yard, hearing the wild voices of the prisoners and seeing men come and go in irons.

Over these walks he had loitered with Dot--now he was one of those who clawed at the window bars like monkeys in a cage in order to look out at the sunshine of the world.

The jail pallor was already on his face and a savage look was in his eyes.