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VA to guards and convicts as Wolf
i 3:? :17 some
HERE ,were five hundred cells in the cell-
- house at Malden Penitentiary. All of them
were identically the same as to size and furnish-
ings, each being fitted for two men.
Prison cells tell many tales. Here as in no
other room or dwelling is portrayed on white-
washed walls the characters of the men confined
therein. In cell No, 1 we find a life whose
dark visage and beady eyes say plainer than
words, “I am a confirmed criminal, a degenerate,
a. dangerous enemy of society,” yet, look upon the
walls of his cell and. we find pictures of dogs,
birds, the lowly cow, a quaint farm-
..i..,,... .. .. ,. K... . x
’z
In a desperate attempt to tame the ‘‘wolf'’ the
guards deliberately sent, one at a. time, the big-
gest, toughest, fiercest dghters among the convicts
to Wellington's-cell. The results of these experi-
ments were discouraging, only stirring up more
“bad blood” inrthe prison and heaping unneces-
sary work upon the doctors-and nurses in the
hospital. During his ten years in the pen the
“wolf” had never seen the inside of the hospital,
tho he was several times in dire need of medical
attention.
Even “Six-Shooter" Munson fell before the ter-
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a glorious scrap! Not a soul to inter-
fere, no meddling “screws" to stop the
mill with saps and guns. And there in
that sound-proof, evil smelling hell-
hole of darkness Wolf Wellington and
Six-Shooter Manson fought. Biting,
V tearing, kicking, brute strength
against brute strength, beast and bloodlust mingled
with an utter disregard for all prize ring rules
or fairness. There was no referee, no timekeeper,
no gong, none other to hear; just the dull impact
of lists or heavy prison shoes falling relentlessly
and unmercifnly upon unprotected flesh; the
sickening crunch of a broken bone, ’the snapping
of a rib, labored breathing, vile curses gasped out '
now and then, the loud tending of clothing, heav-
ily shod feet slipping about or half naked bodies
squirming in the blood on the cement door, and
darkness utter and black. And the end? It came
suddenly and was accompanied by a
house, ‘little ‘children. In cell No.
2 is a pious appearing individual
of middle age who wears glasses, pos-
sessesya faultless command of English,
quotes the Scriptures in a sanctimoni-
ous voice, confesses "to having forged
a check and attends chapel every Sun-
day. Yet, cut from the theatrical
periodicals and hung upon the walls
of his cell‘ are many pictures of
scantily attired actresses. from other
sources he has procured highly col-
ored reproductions of Meizican bull-
frghts, six-shooters of large caliber,
pugilists, and nude hula-hula dancers.
Personal ‘appearances are deceptive.
So it was in Malden Penitentiary.
Every cell was decorated according to
the tastes and characters ‘of its oc-
cupants - horse-hair bridles and
quirtskqueer bits of embroidery, col-V
ored beadwork, samples of fancy pen-
manship, crude lead pencil drawings,-
gaudy calendars, tinseled postcards,
and pictures of every description.
Passing along, the galleries and peer-
ing into the cells one runs the whole
gamut ofemotions as the pitiful at-
tempts at novel or homelike wall
decorations greet his eyes. Arriving '
at cell No. 313 onthe third gallery,
however, we experience a shock; the
walls of the cell are bare! Not even
a small calendar to relieve the white
expanse. Hunched upon the one three-
legged stool and gazing moodily at
nothing in particular is the occupant
of the cell; James Wellington, known
Wellington. ,' ,
On entering the prison to serve a ten-year
‘stretch for highway robbery, Wellington had de-
termined to breed in his heart an intense hatred
‘for everybody in general and the Southern Tri-
angle Railway Company in particular. I That, he
had succeeded in doing this was attested by every-
body in the prison. During the time he had been
in the prison he had violated every prison rule,
established several precedents in ’unique and
original cussedness and had served more time in
-the dungeon on a bread and water diet thanany
other inmate within the walls. He refused to
tolerate a cellmate and this refusal was further
emphasized by his prompt audvthoro tr-ounciug of
any other convict placed in the cell with him.
‘Large or small, hard boiled or pa:rboiled, it made
little difference to the “wolf,” he never failed to
send hiscellmate to the hospital. Guards, too, he
had “clcancd," and one morning bright and early
he handed the warden a haymaker‘ that dislocated
the “big chief's” jaw.
rible dsts of the “wolf.” Six-
Shooter Manson, who, until
Wellington's arrival at the pris-
on, reigned supreme as the hard-
est hitter, the foulest lighter,
the possessor of the most devilish temper; whose
promise of revenge once given was known in the
wild places of the West and in several western
prisons as undying and never failing; Six-Shooter’
Munson who had single handed put two guards
and two convict turnkeys in the hospital in that
never-to-be-forgotten fight in the messhall one
Monday morning; >Six-Shooter Munson, who in a-
vain attempt to curry favor with the cellhouse
keeper, had secretly volunteered to do a stretch
in the dungeon on a “faked" charge and there,
undisturbed, in the inky darkness, unheard by
those living in the light of day, unmercifully
beat Wolf Wellington who was also doing a lolt
in the “hole.”
It was one of’Wellington’s best dghts-it was
, .(
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half human, half animal shriek of
agony and defeat. Then all was still
-all but the low moaning inhalation:
of the fallen, vanquished Six-Shooter
Munson and the drip. drip. drip of
blood from the standing. victorious
Wolf Wellington.
WEEKS later when he was again
out of the hospital as the two
men passed on the gallery, lllunson
had whispered to Wellington. ‘.‘I‘1l
get you outside the pen. Wolf: It's a.
Munson promise!",
How many “bad men" had whisp-
ercd those same words to Wolf Well-
ingtonl A dozen or more. Promises
of revenge when their time has ex-
pired is one of the many ways a con-
Munnon Ilarl “lingered to “’elIlngI4ux
nu Illa Two Men Pnluled on llle (-‘ll-
lery. "PH 0!! You Olltllde llne Pen.
hbnlf. It‘! A Yllnnnon [W-omloel" '
vict declares a temporary truce; a truce'that is
really wanted for.their own peace of mind and
their own safety. Wellington merely sneered at
these many threats. '
A detailed account of how the “wolf: paid for his
many transgressions is needless. The punishment
was severe enough and the scars on his face and
body told‘ of penalties paid in full. l
So, with only one week more to serve Welling-
ton had reached the apex of concentrated incor-
rigibility and hate. He had long since been given
up as a hopeless case. He was an outcast. Letters
from the I’ris0ner’s Friend Society he promptly
returned unopened. His sweetheart of once happy
days wept over her photo which had been re-
turned to her with words penned , on the
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