“See here, young fellow,” he said to Samuel in a low voice. “Have you got anything against young Lockman?” “No,” replied Samuel. “Why?” “If we let you go, will you shut up about this?” “Why, yes,” said the boy, “if you want me to.” “All right,” said the sergeant. “And you, Charlie--we've got you dead, you know.” “Yes,” said the other, “I know.” “And there's ten years coming to you, you understand?” “Yes, I guess so.” “All right. Then will you call it a bargain?” “I will,” said Charlie. “You'll skip the town, and hold your mouth?” “I will.” “Very well. Here's your own kit--and you ought to get through them bars before daylight. And here's fifty dollars. You take this young fellow to New York and lose him. Do you see?” “I see,” said Charlie. “All right,” went on the sergeant. “And mind you don't play any monkey tricks!” “I'm on,” said Charlie with a chuckle. And without more ado he selected a saw from his bag and set to work at the bars of the window. The sergeant retired; and Samuel sat down on the floor and gasped for breath. For about an hour the man worked without a word. Then he braced himself against the wall and wrenched out one of the bars; then another wrench, and another bar gave way; after which he packed up his kit and slipped it into a pocket under his coat. “Now,” he said, “come on.” He slipped through the opening and dropped to the ground, and Samuel followed suit. “This way,” he whispered, and they darted down an alley and came out upon a dark street. For perhaps a mile they walked on in silence, then Charlie turned into a doorway and opened the door with a latch key, and they went up two flights of stairs and into a rear room. He lit the gas, and took off his coat and flung it on the bed. “Now, make yourself at home,” he said. “Is this your room?” asked Samuel. “Yes,” was the reply. “The bulls haven't found it, either!” “But I thought we were to go out of town!” exclaimed the other. “Humph!” laughed Charlie. “Young fellow, you're easy!” “Do you mean you're not going?” cried Samuel. “What! When I've got a free license to work the town?” Samuel stared at him, amazed. “You mean they wouldn't arrest you?” “Not for anything short of murder, I think.” “But--but what could you do?” “Just suppose I was to tip off some newspaper with that story? Not here in Lockmanville--but the New York Howler, we'll say?” “I see!” gasped Samuel. Charlie had tilted back in his chair and was proceeding to fill his pipe. “Gee, sonny,” he said, “they did me the greatest turn of my life when they poked you into that cell. I'll get what's coming to me now!” “How will you get it?” asked the boy. “I'm a gopherman,” said the other. “What's that?” asked Samuel. “You'll have to learn to sling the lingo,” said Charlie with a laugh. “It's what you call a burglar.”