“If I thought that boat meant anything I’d turn it adrift.” “And keep some poor fellow upon the Island all night?” said Hammond, the bribed guard, who with his mate was watching for fear their little plan might be noticed. “Well, that would be mean. I don’t think it amounts to shucks, so I’ll go along and let you boys attend to your business.” As soon as he was gone the convicts were up and off again and down to the river like two shadows, and the great gates were closed again. Into the boat tumbled Tom, and he took the child from his companion’s arms. “It’s a girl, ain’t it, Jim?” he asked as he placed it upon the seat still sleeping. “Yep.” “How old?” “I’ll be blest if I know. My memory ain’t no good, even as far as my kid goes. But I wasn’t going to leave it behind.” “I admire you for taking her,” said Tom as he whirled the boat into the dark night, and the shadows of the prison walls dropped into the longer one of the night, and the boys were well upon their way to freedom. In the shadow Jim took a card from his pocket. “Can you read that, pard?” said he just as a great whistle blew from the prison. But Tom had been able to see Biddy Roan’s address, and heard Jim say that she was a good woman and wanted him to come to her place. But the terrible thundering of the whistle and the bright lights upon the shore made the boys put to the oars with greater grip than ever. When they were out of danger Jim commenced to play about the baby’s neck, mumbling to himself. “I’m going to take this off,” murmured he. “What?” asked Tom, stopping a moment. “Going to take this trinket from the child. I am going to give her a bath.” “Oh, not to drown her?” said Tom in a terrified tone. “Yes, unless she can make her tracks in the water.” “Why, no child that age can swim,” said Tom, again putting his hand upon his companion’s arm. “Then her chance isn’t worth what ours is,” replied Jim brutally. “You would murder your own child? Oh, man, I implore you do not do this thing.” Tom had a tight hold of Jim. “Nevertheless, I am going to do it,” cried Jim, “and you listen here, the price of our freedom is that we should shut this kid’s wizen, and I promised, and now that I let you in on the game I don’t expect you to balk me.” The two were staring at each other through the awful darkness. “I swear you shall not kill it,” cried Tom, and with that the two struggled fiercely together. Every time Jim came near the baby he tried to kick it off in the water. But Tom would effectually keep him far enough away from it. But Jim gave a peculiar wrench to Tom’s arm, and the poor fellow was suffering with a dislocated shoulder. He saw the convict pick up the baby, and throw it into the water, and then grasp the oars and row away. From the depths Tom thought he saw a sweet childish face, and for a moment he hesitated and then cast himself into the water.