winds through thetown of Payson a party of four halted on the outskirts of the town.There were two men, two young women and a huge brown bear. The men andwomen were, obviously, Gypsies. Their clothing, their head-dress, theirbarbaric ornamentation proclaimed the fact to whoever might pass; but noone passed.
"I think," said Bridge, "that we will just stay where we are until afterdark. We haven't passed or seen a human being since we left the cabin.No one can know that we are here and if we stay here until late to-nightwe should be able to pass around Payson unseen and reach the wood to thesouth of town. If we do meet anyone to-night we'll stop them and inquirethe way to Oakdale--that'll throw them off the track."
The others acquiesced in his suggestion; but there were queries aboutfood to be answered. It seemed that all were hungry and that the bearwas ravenous.
"What does he eat?" Bridge asked of Giova.
"Mos' anything," replied the girl. "He like garbage fine. Often I takehim into towns late, ver' late at night an' he eat swill. I do thatto-night. Beppo, he got to be fed or he eat Giova. I go feed Beppo, yougo get food for us; then we all meet at edge of wood just other sidetown near old mill."
During the remainder of the afternoon and well after dark the partyremained hidden in the willows. Then Giova started out with Beppo insearch of garbage cans, Bridge bent his steps toward a small store uponthe outskirts of town where food could be purchased, The Oskaloosa Kidhaving donated a ten dollar bill for the stocking of the commissariat,and the youth and the girl made their way around the south end of thetown toward the meeting place beside the old mill.
As Bridge moved through the quiet road at the outskirts of the littletown he let his mind revert to the events of the past twenty four hoursand as he pondered each happening since he met the youth in the dark ofthe storm the preceding night he asked himself why he had cast hislot with these strangers. In his years of vagabondage Bridge had nevercrossed that invisible line which separates honest men from thieves andmurderers and which, once crossed, may never be recrossed. Chance andnecessity had thrown him often among such men and women; but never hadhe been of them. The police of more than one city knew Bridge--they knewhim, though, as a character and not as a criminal. A dozen times he hadbeen arraigned upon suspicion; but as many times had he been releasedwith a clean bill of morals until of late Bridge had become almostimmune from arrest. The police who knew him knew that he was straightand they knew, too, that he would give no information against anotherman. For this they admired him as did the majority of the criminals withwhom he had come in contact during his rovings.
The present crisis, however, appeared most unpromising to Bridge. Gravecrimes had been committed in Oakdale, and here was Bridge connivingin the escape of at least two people who might readily be under policesuspicion. It was difficult for the man to bring himself to believe thateither the youth or the girl was in any way actually responsible foreither of the murders; yet it appeared that the latter had been presentwhen a murder was committed and now by attempting to elude the policehad become an accessory after the fact, since she possessed knowledgeof the identity of the actual murderer; while the boy, by his ownadmission, had committed a burglary.
Bridge shook his head wearily. Was he not himself an accessory after thefact in the matter of two crimes at least? These new friends, it seemed,were about to topple him into the abyss which he had studiously avoidedfor so long a time. But why should he permit it? What were they to him?
A freight train was puffing into the siding at the Payson station.Bridge could hear the complaining brakes a mile away. It would be easyto leave the town and his dangerous companions far behind him; but evenas the thought forced its way into his mind another obtruded itself toshoulder aside the first. It was recollection of the boy's words: "Oh,Bridge, I don't want to leave you--ever."
"I couldn't do it," mused Bridge. "I don't know just why; but Icouldn't. That kid has certainly got me. The first thing someone knowsI'll be starting a foundlings' home. There is no question but that I amthe soft mark, and I wonder why it is--why a kid I never saw beforelast night has a strangle hold on my heart that I can't shake loose--anddon't want to. Now if it was a girl I could understand it." Bridgestopped suddenly in the middle of the road. From his attitude he mighthave been startled either by a surprising noise or by a surprisingthought. For a minute he stood motionless; then he shook his head againand proceeded along his way toward the little store; evidently if he hadheard anything he was assured that it constituted no menace.
As he entered the store to make his purchases a foxeyed man saw him andstepped quickly behind the huge stove which had not as yet been takendown for the summer. Bridge made his purchases, the volume of whichrequired a large gunny-sack for transportation, and while he wasthus occupied the fox-eyed man clung to his coign of vantage, himselfunnoticed by the purchaser. When Bridge departed the other followed him,keeping in the shadow of the trees which bordered the street. Aroundthe edge of town and down a road which led southward the two went untilBridge passed through a broken fence and halted beside an abandonedmill. The watcher saw his quarry set down his burden, seat himselfbeside it and proceed to roll a cigaret; then he faded away in thedarkness and Bridge was alone.
Five or ten minutes later two slender figures appeared dimly out of thenorth. They approached timidly, stopping often and looking first thisway and then that and always listening. When they arrived opposite themill Bridge saw them and gave a low whistle. Immediately the two passedthrough the fence and approached him.
"My!" exclaimed one. "I thought we never would get here; but we didn'tsee a soul on the road. Where is Giova?"
"She hasn't come yet," replied Bridge, "and she may not. I don't see howa girl can browse around a town like this with a big bear at night andnot be seen, and if she is seen she'll be followed--it would be too muchof a treat for the rubes ever to be passed up--and if she's followed shewon't come here. At least I hope she won't."
"What's that?" exclaimed The Oskaloosa Kid. Each stood in silence,listening.
The girl shuddered. "Even now that I know what it is it makes me creep,"she whispered, as the faint clanking of a distant chain came to theirears.
"We ought to be used to it by this time, Miss Prim," said Bridge. "Weheard it all last night and a good part of to-day."
The girl made no comment upon the use of the name which he had appliedto her, and in the darkness he could not see her features, nor didhe see the odd expression upon the boy's face as he heard the nameaddressed to her. Was he thinking of the nocturnal raid he so recentlyhad made upon the boudoir of Miss Abigail Prim? Was he pondering thefact that his pockets bulged to the stolen belongings of that younglady? But whatever was passing in his mind he permitted none of it topass his lips.
As the three stood waiting in silence Giova came presently among them,the beast Beppo lumbering awkwardly at her side.
"Did he find anything to eat?" asked the man.
"Oh, yes," exclaimed Giova. "He fill up now. That mak him better nature.Beppo not so ugly now."
"Well, I'm glad of that," said Bridge. "I haven't been looking forwardmuch to his company through the woods to-night--especially while he washungry!"
Giova laughed a low, musical little laugh. "I don' think he no hurt youanyway," she said. "Now he know you my frien'."
"I hope you are quite correct in your surmise," replied Bridge. "Buteven so I'm not taking any chances."
*****
Willie Case had been taken to Payson to testify before the coroner'sjury investigating the death of Giova's father, and with the dollarwhich The Oskaloosa Kid had given him in the morning burning in hispocket had proceeded to indulge in an orgy of dissipation the momentthat he had been freed from the inquest. Ice cream, red pop, peanuts,candy, and soda water may have diminished his appetite but not his prideand self-satisfaction as he sat alone and by night for the first time ina public eating place. Willie was now a man of the world, a bon vivant,as he ordered ham and eggs from the pretty waitres
s of The EliteRestaurant on Broadway; but at heart he was not happy for never beforehad he realized what a great proportion of his anatomy was made upof hands and feet. As he glanced fearfully at the former, silhouettedagainst the white of the table cloth, he flushed scarlet, assured as hewas that the waitress who had just turned away toward the kitchen withhis order was convulsed with laughter and that every other eye in theestablishment was glued upon him. To assume an air of nonchalance andthereby impress and disarm his critics Willie reached for a toothpick inthe little glass holder near the center of the table and upset the sugarbowl. Immediately Willie snatched back the offending hand and glaredferociously at the ceiling. He could feel