I was eager to die in my tracks rather than to have such a foul blot on
my name.
The next instant I had sudden revulsion of feeling in regard to that
lock-up. In bitter fear, in almost frenzy of apprehension, in default of
better retreat, I was quite ready to flee to that loathsome coop.
For I heard my uncle raving in the street!
I never remembered his words; my feelings were too much stirred just
then. But the hideous screech of rage in his tones I’ll never forget. I
knew he had found out my betrayal of him.
“He is going to kill me,” I told the detective. “It’s about the horse!”
“Yes, I reckon he will peel you if he gets his hands on you,” stated the
man, who seemed to know what I was referring to. My uncle was threshing
his way through the crowd toward me, making slow progress in the jam.
The detective took advantage of that delay and rushed me off, with
Constable Nute swinging his key and leading the way. Before I was fairly
in my right senses I was in the lock-up alone and my two defenders were
on guard outside the door.
My uncle frothed about the place for an hour, circling the little
building again and again, plucking at bars and clapboards as a monkey
might pick at a gigantic nut which resisted his attempts to get at the
juicy meat for which he was hungry.
Never had I thought that I would be thankful to be in jail till then!
Furthermore, my hopes were sustaining me. I was young and trustful, and
I was sure that innocence would be victorious. I could not understand
how anybody would believe that I was guilty when morning came and I
could explain it all. And I resolved to make some of the Skokums speak
up in my behalf on threat of exposing the whole gang.
At last my uncle went away, staggering and hiccoughing curses--for he
had brought his bottle with him and had been consulting it quite often.
I fell to wondering whether my innocence would stand me in good stead,
providing it vindicated me and secured my release from the lock-up? The
lock-up was surely proving a sanctuary--and my uncle’s threats had been
horrible ones.
Then the crowd which had been hanging around the place with a sort of
hope, I suppose, that my uncle would be able to get at me, went away,
for the hour was late. Mr. Detective went, too. So did Constable
Nute, who was the village night-watch and had his rounds to make. They
considered the cage a secure one, I suppose, for there were big bolts on
the door and iron bars on the windows.
I sat on a stool and mourned my lot as a prisoner, when I was not
dreading my release to be a victim of my incensed uncle. A good many
times I had watched Bart Flanders bring a trapped rat up from his cellar
and set it free in the village square for the entertainment of his
terrier. I was in a position to sympathize with trapped rats.
In the silence of the night something clicked on the glass of a window
and a voice outside hailed me cautiously. My first thought was that the
Skokums had come to rescue me, and I was not especially pleased, for I
felt that they would be impelled more by the spirit of vandalism than by
any love for me. I did not answer.
Then the window-frame grunted and squeaked and I saw that somebody was
prying with a chisel. I rose from the stool and saw the face of Dodovah
Vose.
“I take it that it’s another job they have put up on you, young Sidney.”
“Yes, it is, Mr. Vose,” I cried, and I began to whimper. I couldn’t help
it. He spoke as if he understood, as if he were a friend. “I was trying
to stop their devilishness, and they--”
“You needn’t bother about going into details--not with me, young Sidney.
I have been watching you lately. You have been a good boy. I know you
haven’t been rampaging round town nights. No matter about telling me
anything. There’s no time to listen. Nute may be drifting back here any
minute.”
He was working with his chisel while he was talking.
He pried a couple of bars out of the rotten wood. He pushed the window
up.
“Light out o’ there!” he commanded.
“But I hate to run away, and--”
“The way things stand now in the village you’ll be made the goat,” he
insisted. “And if you get clear of the gang part there’s your uncle to
reckon with. He has been stamping around the tavern and telling about
you. I don’t blame him much. What in sanup did you betray own folks
for?”