Prisoners in Devil's Bog

  CHAPTER IV

  JOHN DOE

  In the Juvenile Court next day, Skippy was duly arraigned andsentenced. An International Detective Agency man posing as an iratemerchant pressed a charge of petty larceny against John Doe, orphan, nohome and a native of the city of New York. The evening papers carried asmall first page story on this original John Doe who was about to spendhis first night of a four year sentence in the Delafield Reformatory.

  Meanwhile, Skippy was aware that his role of John Doe, thief, hadbecome almost too realistic to be comfortable. His morning wait in thecourtroom had seemed interminable. The heat was oppressive, the courtprocedure tiresome and he felt not a little regret that he had noturged Mr. Conne to have his aunt come and give him the bit ofencouragement he needed to go on with his part in the reformatory. Hethought of his dead father, of Big Joe Tully who had lost his lifesaving the Airedale, Mugs, which he had given to Skippy. And Mugs toowas gone, killed by an auto.

  Not that he felt in the least fearful nor doubted his ability to gothrough with his strange role. He merely felt a little lonesome andwished that he might look out over the sea of faces that crowded thecourtroom and see his Aunt Min's among them, smiling her encouragement.But his aunt was at home busy with her sewing that morning, quitecontent with the money that Carlton Conne had turned over to her andsatisfied that the great detective would see that her nephew was safeand sound.

  Skippy had to be content with the presence of Dick Hallam, CarltonConne's man, notwithstanding the fact that he was supposed to beprosecuting him. Hallam, however, was better than no one at all forwhen the occasion permitted, he flashed a significant look at the boy.

  He spent the afternoon in an ante room and Dick Hallam, blond, tall andabout twenty-eight, played "rummy" with him. Also, he had too much toeat, including ice cream and candy and cold drinks and at about fouro'clock Carlton Conne came in.

  "All set, kid?" he asked with that half-smile that Skippy was beginningto like.

  "_And how!_" the boy grinned, feeling cheerful immediately.

  "He's been acting like it's a picnic, boss," Dick Hallam interposedgaily.

  "Fine," said the detective. "You want to keep it up, kid--you'venothing to fear--not a thing! Everything's been arranged, and I don'tthink you'll have to spend more than a night or two at Delafield.Meanwhile, what time you _do_ spend, you'll have someone watching closeat hand so never feel you're alone. The warden and a few trusted guardsknow of our little game, but of course you're to speak to no one aboutit unless you're spoken to first. Now--you remember all the signals?"

  "Yes sir--everythin'!"

  Dick Hallam grinned. "He's just nervous about riding up with that roughneck gang that's been sentenced today, boss. Especially one tough kidnamed Nickie Fallon who got seven years for trying his hand at ahold-up and carrying a gun. Some character, that kid."

  "I know," Conne said understandingly, "that's the only disagreeablepart of this job, kid. But I warned you what the company would be like."

  "Aw gee, Mr. Conne, I ain't afraida that. I was just wonderin' ifthey'd be the kind of guys what start a fight on the way an' if theydid what would I do, huh?"

  "How would you act if you were riding up with that bunch to start areal sentence, eh? Well kid, get yourself in the state of mind that itis real and act accordingly."

  Skippy did just that. About six o'clock a court attendant led him outto a closed car. Four boys ranging from about his own age to seventeenyears sat inside and eyed him sullenly as he crowded his slim bodyamong them to make the fifth passenger on the back seat. Two detectivesfollowed and took the chairs before them; another detective sat aheadon the seat beside the driver.

  "Well, if it ain't John Doe--the kid hisself!" a hoarse voice whisperedbeside him.

  Skippy looked up and saw a drooping mouth and black eyes almost toobright--Nickie Fallon. Despite an inward shudder, he nodded and smiled.

  "That's me," he said simply. "Got enough room?"

  "Nah, but that's all jake. Might's well get used to crowdin'." Then,after a pause: "Say, you John Doe, on the level?"

  Skippy gave a sidelong glance at the detectives to see if they notedthis whispered conversation between Nickie Fallon and himself.Apparently they didn't, and he gave the boy another smile.

  "Anyways, they slipped you four years, eh? Three years less'n me."There was another pause after which Fallon whispered, "They ain'tkeepin' me two days if I can take it on the lam. How about you, kid?"

  Skippy nodded again, feeling rather foolish as he did so. However, hecould think of no other course to pursue, and instinct prompted him tohold his tongue until he was sure of himself.

  "Ain't the gabby kind, eh?" said the other. "Well, that's the kinda palI like. Say, if they don't put us near each other up there, I'll raisethe dust--see? I wanta pal like you."

  Skippy stirred uneasily. Was Nickie Fallon going to be an unlooked-forfactor in this strange play?