"No, I mean just the other way," I said sharply, "you paid a nickel for that prize-box, didn't you?" "Yes'm." "And there was candy in it?" "A little-grain." "And you ate it?" "What there were of it." "And now you want to trade him the ring, which cannot be worth more than two cents, for his Sunday breeches." The "born trader" looked at me pityingly. "Miss Loring," he said, "womenfolks haint got no understanding of prize-boxes. Sometimes you pay your nickel down and don't git ary thing in 'em; and then ag'in there's jewelries nobody can't tell _what_ they worth, they so fine. Thaint nary ring like that ever been seed in these parts. Iry Atkins's got the onliest ring like it on Perilous, or I reckon in Kent County, or maybe in Kentucky! What's breeches to that?" To this master argument, the fact that the ring would not keep Iry's legs warm in winter seemed a puerile answer; still, with cold weather coming on, and clothing scarce as hens' teeth, I was compelled to break up the trade, and to forbid Geordie's making any more. In the afternoon we went up Perilous, persimmon and buckeye hunting, and later, after filling their shirt-fronts with the shiny ammunition, the boys lined up on opposite sides of the creek and had a buckeye-battle. After supper I began reading the Story of Odysseus. When we came to the place where the hero makes his escape from the cave of Polyphemus, Nucky interrupted to tell the tale he promised while we were on Trigger, of Blant's escape last spring, when for the first and only time he was arrested by officers. It was the day when he was "laywayed" by Elhannon, Todd and Dalt, and had killed one, and almost killed the other two. The sheriff happened to be on Powderhorn, near the mouth of Trigger, at the time, received the news at once, and reached the Marrs home within an hour after the occurrence. Blant, not dreaming of so prompt an attempt at arrest, was sitting before the fire cleaning his forty-five; and before he knew it, the sheriff stepped between him and his ammunition. Quiet surrender was the only possible thing. The sheriff and deputy started with him to the jail here in our village; but, being overtaken by darkness on the way, were obliged to stop overnight at a wayside house. Blant went to bed, handcuffed, between the sheriff and deputy, each of whom retired with a loaded revolver in his hand. In the morning the prisoner was gone, the blanket that had covered the three swung from the window, and the two revolvers were found on the ground beneath, placed neatly side by side. "Thaint no men or no prison nowhere Blant couldn't git away from if he was a mind to," said Nucky; "he wouldn't fool around and see his friends et up like Odysseus."