He licked his lips. "They sintinced me to prison fer life."
Feeny swore a great oath. "That—Tweed!"
"No!" he cried. "No! 'Twas not Tweed. Little need had he to do it. 'Twas done fer 'm be the toads that wanted to get right with 'm. There 's the danger! Whin yeh fight Tammany, yeh fight all the thaves, an' liars, an' jail-burds that do the dirty work without bein' told—in the hopes av what they 'll get fer it. Yeh 'll fight Tammany, d' yeh think? The dogs that live off Tammany's leavin's, they 're the ones yeh 'll fight, Feeny. An' God hilp yeh!" He reached his hands up over his head. "God hilp yeh, fer yeh 'll need it. It 's me that knows—me that 's laid awake nights holdin' mesilf down in me bed to kape from leapin' at the bars like a wild-cat—me that 's been buried alive these thurty years, a livin' corpse—me that 's lost wife, an' child, an' frien's, an' fam'ly—All lost, Feeny, all lost!" He broke into sobs, his old toothless mouth trembling and distorted, the thin tears streaking the hollow of his cheeks. "Me! The husk av a man! That dare not go into a crowd—that dare not so much as inter a departmint store—fer fear av what might happen to drag me back to me cell! Out on commuted sintince fer good conduc'! All the life wrung from me, drop be drop, an' the dried rind av me thrown out here in the gutter! Take yer lesson here, Feeny. Take it here, fer it 's bitter teachin' yeh 'll get from thim!"
Feeny took off his helmet and wiped his forehead. The old man sank down on himself, exhausted.
