Messenger No. 48 - Part 30
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Part 30

"Well, I can't. I had a good thing for a while, but it's busted now."

If Jet had had any doubts as to the ident.i.ty of the man they would have been dispelled by this last remark, and he listened eagerly for a continuation of the conversation.

"Got company up to your house, ain't you?" the inquisitive party asked.

"How'd you know that?"

"Some of the folks said you brought some friends back."

"It seems as if the people in this town had nothin' better to do than watch their neighbors."

"Then it is true?"

"I've got an old friend visitin' me for a spell, but he's sick now, an'

we don't want folks 'round to disturb him."

"That must be Bob," Jet said to himself. "Perhaps he was wounded, and has come here to stay till he gets better. Now, how can I send word to Mr. Harvey?"

This was the one important thing to do in view of what he had learned, but it would be necessary that none of the townspeople should see the letter, and the manager of the company was so angry with him that it was a question if he would attend to the matter.

He seated himself in one corner of the room, where his face could not be seen plainly, and waited for this particular constable to leave the building.

In about an hour the prisoners tired of giving a free concert, and, finding they were not likely to be amused any longer, the visitors took their departure.

From one of his companions Jet begged a few leaves out of a note-book, from another he borrowed a pencil, and thus equipped he sat down to detail what he thought was important news.

"Sending for money to pay your fine, Jet?" one of the party asked jokingly, and this caused the others to think of what they might do.

"I reckon a good many of us had better try the same game," a second man said seriously. "The manager can't get us out of the hole, and we may as well begin to hustle for ourselves."

"It won't cost much to do it," Jet replied, thinking that if a number of letters were sent from the jail his would attract less attention.

Nearly all the party concluded to make the attempt, and a call was made upon the turnkey for envelopes.

Jet offered ten cents to pay for the same, and in a short time the note-book was stripped of its leaves as each prisoner set about making a written appeal for funds.

The question of postage was next raised, and to this Jet was forced to respond, in order that his missive should be sent without delay.

By the time the letters had been made ready, the member of the company who came over on the cars with the manager paid his companions a visit, and, quite naturally, agreed to post the mail matter.

Now that he was reasonably certain Harvey would soon know the exact condition of affairs, Jet felt very light-hearted. It seemed almost positive he had stumbled upon Bob's hiding-place, and if such should prove to be the case, the second man implicated in the murder must be captured within a few days.

Shortly before mid-day the squire came over to interview his prisoners.

It was possible he had been figuring the cost to the town in case this party of twelve should remain contentedly in jail; and perhaps he was beginning to believe the sentence too severe when taken in the aggregate.

"Your manager has been tryin' to talk me into lettin' you fellers out,"

he began, a.s.suming a friendly tone and air. "I told him that justice couldn't be tampered with, an' have come 'round to see what you're goin' to do 'bout payin' the fines."

"Squire, did you ever try to get blood out of a stone?" one of the party asked.

"What has that got to do with it, eh?"

"Nothing, except that it would be as easy to bleed a rock as to get cash from them who are flat broke."

"But, bless my heart, you can't stay here forever, you know."

"It depends on you. If the manager has made any kind of a fair offer I advise you to accept it, for it will cost something to feed this crowd, and I don't suppose you would care to take the responsibility of starving us to death."

The squire wiped the perspiration from his face, although the room was by no means warm.

"If you could pay somethin' on account, an' give bonds for the rest----"

"I don't believe you could scare up a dollar among the whole of us, and as for bonds--who would sign them?"

"But you can't expect me to let you go free after robbing a man's orchard, an' bein' sentenced in a regular court?"

"Certainly not, and for that reason we have settled down to the belief that we shall be your guests a very long while."

"If I should let you out long enough to give a show, would you come back here?" the squire asked after a long pause.

"Who would get the money taken at the door?"

"It would go toward payin' your fines."

"That's a matter we shall have to discuss, for it isn't a pleasant lookout to give a performance for the benefit of your court when we need money so badly ourselves."

"I'll come back in an hour an' get your answer," the squire replied with considerable show of dignity, as he left the building.

Jet was distressed at the thought that it might be possible the fines would be paid in a short time, for then he could make no excuse for loitering about the town, and even if he should do so there was every reason to believe the constable he was eager to have arrested would recognize him.

CHAPTER XIX

THE DINNER

Dinner, consisting of soup, with a liberal supply of meat and bread, was served to the prisoners at twelve o'clock, and, half an hour later, the manager arrived to talk with his company regarding the proposition to reduce the fines so far as was possible by giving a performance.

The "funny" man of the party acted as spokesman for his companions, and Jet listened with deepest interest to the following conversation:

"There is no question about persuadin' that idiotic squire to give all hands a few hours' liberty, if you agree to return here as soon as the performance is ended," the manager began.

"And in what way shall we be benefited?"

"At least a portion of the fines will be paid, and it may then be possible to get his consent to our moving on to the next town."