There it stood,
the sole article in the brightly varnished room of about twenty-
five feet square with walls of clean blue, this grim acolyte of
modern scientific death. There were the wet electrodes that are
fastened to the legs through slits in the trousers at the calves;
above was the pipe-like fixture, like a gruesome helmet of leather
that fits over the head, carrying the other electrode.
Back of the condemned was the switch which lets loose a lethal
store of energy, and back of that the prison morgue where the
bodies are taken. I looked about. In the wall to the left toward
the death house was also a door, on this side yellow. Somehow I
could not get from my mind the fascination of that door--the
threshold of the grave.
Meanwhile Kennedy sat in the little cage and talked with the
convicted man across the three-foot distance between cell and
screen. I did not see him at that time, but Kennedy repeated
afterward what passed, and it so impressed me that I will set it
down as if I had been present.
Pages:
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476