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knew you was a heavy cater, Mr. Maxwell." Maxwell looked at him in perplex ity. He could not understand this. Nobody had ever done a disinterested act for him before. "You see, Mr. Maxwell, I guess I know how you felt when you got me a life sentence," said Morton. "And I knew you was as staunch as steel to your friends. So I wanted to be your friend and to have you for mine leastways, until we part.' Maxwell growled and gnawed the food. He had' eaten no supper in his excitement, and the bread stayed a horrible f aintness inside. When he had eaten it all he rose. "Come along," he snarled again. As they continued their flight they heard a strange, mellow sound, very far away, that rang down the open glades. "What's that?" asked Maxwell, his heart sinking. "Bloodhounds," muttered the boy. "Come on." They -raced forward, and every minute the baying became more audi ble. And when at last, from the crest of a little' knoll, the sea suddenly broke upon their sight, glittering in the moonlight, the hounds gave tongue not half a mile behind. "Come on," muttered the boy again. Those last moments were terrible. It seemed as though they would never reach their haven. As they reached the shore the leading hound emerged through the trees and' came leaping toward them, uttering a full-toned howl of discovery. There lay the boat, where Maxwell had expected it. It was the work of a moment for both to leap into it and push off with the oars. Then Maxwell 1 turned to the engine. Morton flung himself down in the bottom of the little craft. The hounds debouched' upon the shore, ten paces distant. Two horse men emerged from the scrub and, reining in their steeds, unslung their rifles. "Come back, 72," they called The engine would not start. Max well worked at it desperately. The rifle barrels were covering him now. "It's no use, 72 !" cried the warden. "I have you covered. I can put a bul let through your heart, sure. Best come back." One last attempt and the convict realized the hopelessness of his en deavor. He had been beaten by one minute and a cranky piece of obso lete mechanism. He stared hopeless ly around him. "It's no good wasting time, 72," the warden continued, pleasantly. "That was a neat trick of yours and we have you now, and you'd best come quietly. ."The rest of the boys want to welcome you, Maxwell." "The rest of the boys." The hunted man glanced down toward his com panion, who crouched in terror upon the bottom. This wretched fellow had given him his supper; he had wanted to be his friend. "Say, you!" he whispered. "I'm go ing ashore. They haven't spotted you. Lie low till they're out of sight and then pull like the devil. Three miles out you will come on a yacht. Under stand? Pull till you're off the coast, and then, if you don't see her, wait till dawn. They'll take you aboard if you give 'em my name and say the chief sent you.5' "Are you .coming, Maxwell?" de manded the warden, ominously. The barrels were still covering him. "I shall count three," the warden con tinued. "One!" "Ask for Mr. Briggs, boy, and tell him I said he was to see you to where yqu want to go and give you what money you need, because " "Two!" "Because you are a particular friend of mine." "Three!" Maxwell threw up his hands. "I surrender!" he shouted. And, strug gling to his" feet, he jumped over board and scrambled through two feet of muddy water. He stretched his