He And Three Others Escape With Armed Aid--Comb Country For Fugitives. There were two columns of the story. It had been discovered that the car had been tampered with and the driver told of being drawn into conversation while he was waiting at the courthouse by a "queer-looking man, dressed like a mechanic." Also, he described how the boys had been taken from him at the point of a gun and how Dippy Donovan had refused to escape. It was hinted at the reformatory that the boy, because of his behavior, stood a chance of having more than half his sentence remitted. "They'd do that for us too, eh?" Shorty remarked regretfully. "The time eet go quick then an' when we got out we go 'ome, eh? Now we don't go 'ome teel we do stretch. Now we go west where Devlin send us. Always we are seeck for 'ome but we can't go." "Yeah," said Nickie wistfully, "that's the trouble. It's justa bad break. I never give it a tumble before bout home, sweet home. All I thought was what a joke on them dicks when we pull a fast one. I never think how it ain't such a joke goin' west where we can't go home unless we take a rap. An' it'll be harder doin' the stretch afterward than now--why didn' I thinka that, hah?" "I coulda told you if I hadn't been out," Skippy said thoughtfully. "Yeah, sure thing, kid. You got brains. Me, I think I'm smart--see! I don't think how I'm gonna get homesick out west an' wanta see my aunt an' New York too. Holy Smoke, I don't wanna be dodgin' dicks forever!" he added, bitterly. Bragging, laughing boy-heroes the day before, they were all bitter and resentful now. Their grand dream of escape, their defiance of the law, had brought them nothing but disappointment, and instead of knowing that each day brought them nearer to freedom, they were to be forever pursued by the spectral arm of the law. It threatened them with a double punishment should they come back voluntarily, yet it stood between them and their homes if they evaded it. Skippy was absorbed in these thoughts just as if he had been one of them. He no longer felt that he was playing a part or acting as the spring of the trap into which Mr. Conne hoped Devlin would fall; he felt that the whole thing had become too realistic and that the spring of the trap was threatening to snap upon himself instead of Devlin. Nickie broke into his musing. "Aw, we ain't gettin' nowheres by sittin' here mopin' about it, hah? C'mon, kid, let's play rummy." Skippy had been turning the pages of the paper, giving them a cursory glance. As he turned to the ninth page he saw a column marked PERSONAL and directly under it he saw his name. His heart pounded furiously. "Yeah, later," he said, trying to make his voice sound calm. "I gotta read the baseball news."