Easton man whom I knew and whom I met in the city, that “Sarah Scheimer was sick”—that was all; the man said he did’nt know the family very well, but he had heard that Miss Scheimer had been “out of her head, if not downright crazy.”
Crazy indeed! How mad and how miserable that poor girl was made by her own family, I did not know till months afterward, and then I had the terrible story from her own lips. It seems that when her father and his gang returned from pursuing me, as they did a little
contentment in prison, I was comparatively happy. I nursed the sick and administered medicines under direction of the doctor. I had too, with all easy position, more liberty than any other prisoner. I could go anywhere about the halls and yard, and in a few weeks I was frequently sent on an errand into