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suit with a dark blue tie. As I put the tuberose in his buttonhole he said, "Please thank Frank for the flower." We chatted for a little while, then came the signal to go to church. Mr. Davis went into the chapel and I went back to the office. Little did I think at that moment, that before midnight, our beloved Mr. Davis would lie cold in death.

The church services passed by as usual. The men had just finished singing the hymn "Stand Up For Jesus," the notes of the song had hardly died away, and the men were still standing awaiting the benediction. Mr. Davis, as was his usual custom at the close of services, walked across the aisle to unlock the south door through which the prisoners pass into the yard and from thence into their cells. All of a sudden the negro Prince, sneaked up behind him and quickly thrust his dagger into the abdomen of the deputy. Taken by surprise, Mr. Davis stepped to one side, throw-

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ing forward his hand in defense. Prince followed and quickly dealt him four more blows. Mr. Wagner, then a guard, grabbed Prince by the arm. The negro turned around and handed the dagger to Mr, Wagner. The negro was told to go to the hole, which he did. Mr. Wagner sent me word to telephone to Doctor Stradling and to Doctor Wilmeth. The whole incident was in absolute silence. Never once did Mr. Davis cry out, although he was stabbed thrice in the abdomen, once below the heart, once in the left side of the face, and once on the hand while using it to guard against the blows. The men also kept quiet, not a single voice was raised, nor was there any confusion of any kind. Mr. Davis walked into his office, and meeting Warden Delahunty said: "I am going to leave you Jim," for he realized that he was mortally wounded. Leaning upon the strong arm of Mr. Dinsmore, Mr. Davis walked to the hospital and sat down in the operating chair.

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I wish to pause here and tell my reader about Mr. Dinsmore, or the "Convict Physician," as Judge Frost calls him. He is a tall, fine appearing man, refined and to all appearances, a gentleman. Thirteen years behind the walls of Lancaster have turned his hair and mustache prematurely gray. He is a well preserved man and walks with a military bearing. He may have his faults, and who has not, but within him beats a heart full of sympathy and mercy. He is serving a life sentence. It is true that he is charged with murder, and it is also true that he at times has violated the prison rules, but nevertheless he is entitled to justice. He has been true and sincere and never professed to be converted, for he is no hypocrite. This "is perhaps one reason why he has incurred the wrath of those blatherskites in skirts who pose as soul savers. He also incurred the everlasting hatred of several of the convicts because he would not supply them with "dope." It was one or two of these latter,

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on vengeance bent, who told Judge Frost the lies that furnished the basis for the following article, taken from "The Lincoln State Journal" of March 19, 1912:

"A CONVICT PHYSICIAN"

"I have already said considerable about Convict Dinsmore. For years except for one or two times when he was removed for some dereliction, he has been the hospital steward. As such he has handled perhaps nine-tenths of the medicine administered to the convicts. Many a convict has been afraid to take medicine administered to him. When it is recalled that he killed his wife by using a poison compounded by himself, one cannot wonder. I have had instances narrated to me where this man or that man claimed to have had poison administered to him by Dinsmore. I have even been told of instances where a certain convict was actually poisoned to deaths One ex-convict has told me of how he himself has been nearly poisoned by a green pill given