"
He promised he would not put me in the dungeon, he was only going to
put me in my cell, he said, and to my cell I went, willingly enough,
and stayed there a week, during which time I suppose everyone of my
shopmates thought I was in the dungeon, undergoing severe punishment
for my rebellions conduct.
I had learned now the worst lesson which a prisoner can learn-that
is, that my keepers were afraid of me. To a limited extent, it is
true, I was now my own master and keeper. In a few days Deputy Morey
came to me and asked me if I was "willing" to come out and work. I
was sick of solitary confinement, and longed to see the faces of
men, even prisoners: so I told him if I could get any work I could
do I was willing to try it, and would do as well as I knew how. He
asked me if I knew anything of locksmithing? I told him I had some
taste for it, and if he would show me his job I would let him see
what I could do.
The fact is, I was a very fair amateur locksmith, and had quite a
fondness for fixing, picking, and fussing generally over locks.
Accordingly, when he gave me a lock to work upon to make it "play
easier," as he described it, I did the job so satisfactorily that I
had nearly every lock in the prison to take off and operate upon, if
it was nothing more than to clean and oil one. This business
occupied my entire time and attention for nearly three months. Then
I repaired iron bedsteads, did other iron work, and I was the
general tinker of the prison.
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