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Newspaper Page Text
By Mark Bentwich.
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
No. '72 had covered about a hun
"dred and fifty pacesfwhen he first per
ceived the shadow that slunk behind
him. He turned' and crouched in a
-clump of palmetto. He knew that this
portended no immediate danger, but
' his heart beat horribly.
The shadow crept onward and
evolved into a pale, anemic boy of
"Where Are You Going?" .
some twenty years. The stout man
sprang upon him suddenly,
"What are you following me for?"
The other whimpered in his clutch.
"I want to be free, too," he muttered.
"I don't mean no harm to you, Mr.
Maxwell released his fellow-convict
and stood watching him doubtfully.
For nine months James Maxwell,
aforetime boss of Luola, had done
time in the hideous turpentine camp
in southern Mississippi. His friends
had not been idle, however, and with
the aid of a smuggled saw and a
bribed jailer he had carved his way
to freedom out of the stockade. And
now this wretch had followed him.
He knew Morton as a "lifer." The
unhappy boy, timid and terrified by
any threat of violence, had stabbed a
man to death in a quarrel about a
girl. And he, Maxwell, whose corrupt
government had slain dozens with
typhoid and' ruined hundreds with
dishonesty, was serving a five years'
"Come along, then," growled the
boss and the two set off through the
scrub pfne. It would be two hours
before the escape was discovered;',
that would be when the warden went
his rounds at midnight. And it was
only twelve miles along the forest
trail to where lay the hidden motor
boat, which was to carry the boss out
to the yacht that lay at anchor, just
outside the national limits, three
"Where are you going?" asked the
, "Luola," sniffed the fellow. "You
isee," he added, "I got a friend there
,who'll never give me away. And
when it's safe he'll give me the fare
out of the state to where my girl lives
now. She promised to wait two years
for me, in case I could make a clean
Luola! Maxwell felt a pang at
heart. He remembered the case now,
remembered that he had instigated
the judge to impose a life sentence
because the slain man had been one
of his followers.
For hours they fought their way.
through the tangle of thorns and
brambles, until at last they flung
themselves down exhausted".
"Well, we're three-quarters there, I
reckon," said Maxwell sullenly.
The fellow drew a hunk of bread
and a morsel of cheese from his
"I saved this for you," he said. "I