IN WHICH BOBBY TAKES FRENCH LEAVE, AND CAMPS IN THE WOODS.
The intelligence of Bobby's misfortune reached Mr. Bayard, in Boston,
by means of the newspapers. To the country press an item is a matter
of considerable importance, and the alleged offence against the peace
and dignity of the State of Maine was duly heralded to the inquiring
public as a "daring robbery." The reporter who furnished the facts in
the case for publication was not entirely devoid of that essential
qualification of the country item writer, a lively imagination, and was
obliged to dress up the particulars a little, in order to produce the
necessary amount of wonder and indignation. It was stated that one of
the two young men had been prowling about the place for several days,
ostensibly for the purpose of selling books, but really with the
intention of stealing whatever he could lay his hands upon. It was
suggested that the boys were in league with an organized band of
robbers, whose nefarious purposes would be defeated by the timely
arrest of these young villains. The paper hinted that further
depredations would probably be discovered, and warned people to beware
of ruffians strolling about the country in the guise of pedlers.
The writer of this thrilling paragraph must have had reason to believe
that he had discharged his whole duty to the public, and that our hero
was duly branded as a desperate fellow. No doubt he believed Bobby was
an awful monster; for at the conclusion of his remarks he introduced
some severe strictures on the lenity of the magistrate, because he had
made the sentence two years, instead of five, which the writer thought
the atrocious crime deserved. But, then, the justice differed from him
in politics, which may account for the severity of the article.
Mr. Bayard read this precious paragraph with mingled grief and
indignation. He understood the case at a glance. Tom Spicer had
joined him, and the little merchant had been involved in his crime. He
was sure that Bobby had had no part in stealing the money. One so
noble and true as he had been could not steal, he reasoned. It was
contrary to experience, contrary to common sense.
He was very much disturbed. This intelligence would be a severe blow
to the poor boy's mother, and he had not the courage to destroy all her
bright hopes by writing her the terrible truth. He was confident that
Bobby was innocent, and that his being in the company of Tom Spicer had
brought the imputation upon him; so he could not let the matter take
its course. He was determined to do something to procure his liberty
and restore his reputation.
Squire Lee was in the city that day, and had left his store only half
an hour before he discovered the paragraph. He immediately sent to his
hotel for him, and together they devised means to effect Bobby's
liberation. The squire was even more confident than Mr. Bayard that
our hero was innocent of the crime charged upon him. They agreed to
proceed immediately to the State of Maine, and use their influence in
obtaining his pardon. The bookseller was a man of influence in the
community, and was as well known in Maine as in Massachusetts; but to
make their application the surer, he procured letters of introduction
from some of the most distinguished men in Boston to the governor and
other official persons in Maine.
We will leave them now to do the work they had so generously
undertaken, and return to the Reform School, where Bobby and Tom were
confined. The latter took the matter very coolly. He seemed to feel
that he deserved his sentence, but he took a malicious delight in
seeing Bobby the companion of his captivity. He even had the hardihood
to remind him of the blow he had struck him more than two months
before, telling him that he had vowed vengeance then, and now the time
had come. He was satisfied.
"You know I didn't steal the money, or have any thing to do with it,"
said Bobby.
"Some of it was found upon you, though," sneered Tom, maliciously.
"You know how it came there, if no one else does."
"Of course I do; but I like your company too well to get rid of you so
easy."
"The Lord is with the innocent," replied Bobby, "and something tells me
that I shall not stay in this place a great while."
"Going to run away?" asked Tom, with interest, and suddenly dropping
his malicious look.
"I know I am innocent of any crime; and I know that the Lord will not
let me stay here a great while."
"What do you mean to do, Bob?"
Bobby made no reply; he felt that he had had more confidence in Tom
than he deserved, and he determined to keep his own counsel in future.
He had a purpose in view. His innocence gave him courage; and perhaps
he did not feel that sense of necessity for submission to the laws of
the land which age and experience give. He prayed earnestly for
deliverance from the place in which he was confined. He felt that he
did not deserve to be there; and though it was a very comfortable
place, and the boys fared as well as he wished to fare, still it seemed
to him like a prison. He was unjustly detained; and he not only prayed
to be delivered, but he resolved to work out his own deliverance at the
first opportunity.
Knowing that whatever he had would be taken from him, he resolved by
some means to keep possession of the twenty dollars he had about him.
He had always kept his money in a secret place in his jacket to guard
against accident, and the officers who had searched him had not
discovered it. But now his clothes would be changed. He thought of
these things before his arrival; so, when he reached the entrance, and
got out of the wagon, to open the gate, by order of the officer, he
slipped his twenty dollars into a hole in the wall.
It so happened that there was not a suit of clothes in the store room
of the institution which would fit him; and he was permitted to wear
his own dress till another should be made. After his name and
description had been entered, and the superintendent had read him a
lecture upon his future duties, he was permitted to join the other
boys, who were at work on the farm. He was sent with half a dozen
others to pick up stones in a neighboring field. No officer was with
them, and Bobby was struck with the apparent freedom of the
institution, and he so expressed himself to his companions.
"Not so much freedom as you think for," said one, in reply.
"I should think the fellows would clear out."
"Not so easy a matter. There is a standing reward of five dollars to
any one who brings back a runaway."
"They must catch him first."
"No fellow ever got away yet. They always caught him before he got ten
miles from the place."
This was an important suggestion to Bobby, who already had a definite
purpose in his mind. Like a skilful general, he had surveyed the
ground on his arrival, and was at once prepared to execute his design.
In his conversation with the boys, he obtained, the history of several
who had attempted to escape, and found that even those who got a fair
start were taken on some public road. He perceived that they were not
good generals, and he determined to profit by their mistake.
A short distance from the institution was what appeared to be a very
extensive wood. Beyond this, many miles distant, he could see the
ocean glittering like a sheet of ice under the setting sun.
He carefully observed the hills, and obtained the bearings of various
prominent objects in the vicinity, which would aid him in his flight.
The boys gave him all the information in their power about the
localities of the country. They seemed to feel that he was possessed
of a superior spirit, and that he would not long remain among them;
but, whatever they thought, they kept their own counsel.
Bobby behaved well, and was so intelligent and prompt that he obtained
the confidence of the superintendent, who began to employ him about the
house, and in his own family. He was sent of errands in the
neighborhood, and conducted himself so much to the satisfaction of his
guardians that he was not required to work in the field after the
second day of his residence on the farm.
One afternoon he was told that his clothes were ready, and that he
might put them on the next morning. This was a disagreeable
announcement; for Bobby saw that, with the uniform of the institution
upon his back, his chance of escape would be very slight. But about
sunset, he was sent by the superintendent's lady to deliver a note at a
house in the vicinity.
"Now or never!" said Bobby to himself, after he had left the house.
"Now's my time."
As he passed the gate, he secured his money, and placed it in the
secret receptacle of his jacket. After he had delivered the letter, he
took the road and hastened off in the direction of the wood. His heart
beat wildly at the prospect of once more meeting his mother, after
nearly four weeks' absence. Annie Lee would welcome him; she would not
believe that he was a thief.
He had been four days an inmate of the Reform School, and nothing but
the hope of soon attaining his liberty had kept his spirits from
drooping. He had not for a moment despaired of getting away.
He reached the entrance to the wood, and taking a cart path, began to
penetrate its hidden depths. The night darkened upon him; he heard the
owl screech his dismal note, and the whip-poor-will chant his cheery
song. A certain sense of security now pervaded his mind, for the
darkness concealed him from the world, and he had placed six good miles
between him and the prison, as he considered it.
He walked on, however, till he came to what seemed to be the end of the
wood, and he hoped to reach the blue ocean he had seen in the distance
before morning. Leaving the forest, he emerged into the open country.
There was here and there a house before him; but the aspect of the
country seemed strangely familiar to him. He could not understand it.
He had never been in this part of the country before; yet there was a
great house with two barns by the side of it, which he was positive he
had seen before.
He walked across the field a little farther, when, to his astonishment
and dismay, he beheld the lofty turrets of the State Reform School. He
had been walking in a circle, and had come out of the forest near the
place where he had entered it.
Bobby, as the reader has found out by this time, was a philosopher as
well as a hero; and instead of despairing or wasting his precious time
in vain regrets at his mistake, he laughed a little to himself at the
blunder, and turned back into the woods again.
"Now or never!" muttered he. "It will never do to give it up so."
For an hour he walked on, with his eyes fixed on a great bright star in
the sky. Then he found that the cart path crooked round, and he
discovered where he had made his blunder. Leaving the road, he made
his way in a straight line, still guided by the star, till he came to a
large sheet of water.
The sheet of water was an effectual barrier to his farther progress;
indeed, he was so tired, he did not feel able to walk any more. He
deemed himself safe from immediate pursuit in this secluded place. He
needed rest, and he foresaw that the next few days would be burdened
with fatigue and hardship which he must be prepared to meet.
Bobby was not nice about trifles, and his habits were such that he had
no fear of taking cold. His comfortable bed in the little black house
was preferable to the cold ground, even with the primeval forest for a
chamber; but circumstances alter cases, and he did not waste any vain
regrets about the necessity of his position. After finding a secluded
spot in the wood, he raked the dry leaves together for a bed, and
offering his simple but fervent prayer to the Great Guardian above, he
lay down to rest. The owl screamed his dismal note, and the
whip-poor-will still repeated his monotonous song; but they were good
company in the solitude of the dark forest.
He could not go to sleep for a time, so strange and exciting were the
circumstances of his position. He thought of a thousand things, but he
could not _think_ himself to sleep, as he was wont to do. At last
nature, worn out by fatigue and anxiety, conquered the circumstances,
and he slept.