He crept away into the darkest corner, and stretched himself on the thin straw which covered the damp and dirty floor, but he could not fall asleep.
There was a good deal of quarreling among the boys, and the men who wished to sleep swore long and loudly at them.

Then there followed a fight, which grew so exciting at last that every person in the place, except Tony, gathered about the boys in a ring, encouraging and cheering them.

It was long after midnight before silence and rest came, and then he fell into a broken slumber, dreaming of Dolly and old Oliver, until he awoke and found his face wet with tears.

He got up before any of his bed-fellows were aroused, and made his way out into the fresh keen air of a December morning.
Day after day went by, and night after night Tony was growing more indifferent again to the swearing and fighting of his old comrades.

He began to listen with delight to the tales of Clever Dog Tom, who told him that hands like his would work well in his line, and his innocent-looking face would go a long way towards softening any judge and jury, or would bring him favour with the chaplain, and easy times in gaol.