“Oh, it’s all right, but, listen, somebody is coming.” Saying this, both jumped into their berths, and Arkwright ran again through the corridor. “I could have sworn that I heard voices,” said he in a whisper. “I suppose I am worried, seeing that boat, but I think some fisherman has left it there.” Tom and Jim had hardly taken a breath until they heard the re-echoing of the officer’s heavy boots upon the floor. “Come now,” he said in a low tone, “let’s get out of here.” “All right.” “I’ve got to go upstairs,” said Jim slowly, looking at Tom to see what he would say as to the revelation he was going to make. “I have a kid up there, and I’m not going to leave it behind.” “Your own?” “You bet, ’taint no right in the world,” said Jim; “but long as ’tis here, and I’m to blame for it, I’m going to take it along.” Tom Cooper put out his hand and grasped the other’s hand in his. “You’re a dandy,” cried he; “I’m glad to know you. Hurry and get the kid, or we may be seen.” “Don’t utter a whisper, and I’ll be down in a minute. The babe is just above us here. Lucky I got it to-night, or there would be no chance to-morrow. I heard they were going to move it to another building.” “Hurry then, Jim,” again said the sailor. Jim could not but wonder how he was going to explain the drowning of the child, and if the sailor would take it like he did and think that as long as his freedom depended upon it it was all right. Jim hated to do it, but he had promised, and then, too, the kid was so little. He hurried up the steps, and looked cautiously about. There was the mother lying as if dead upon the bed, and opposite her was the child. With a sly motion of his hand he slipped a saturated handkerchief under the child’s nose, and she slumbered on peacefully. The mother murmured once, “Helen,” in her sleep and the convict heard and went on. He could see the death damp upon the brow of the mother. He knew that it would not be long before she would be outside the gates of the immortal and demanding admittance. Jim was superstitious and he ran down the steps as if the devil were in his trail. The boys thought their troubles were all over, when they heard a great voice calling them: “Wait a moment, there are two of you.” “Shut up, Hammond,” snarled Jim, “I’m taking the father of the kid. Get some more money from Nathans; he’s good for it.” Again there was silence. “Hist, there is another.” “Who?” called Jim. “Arkwright.” “Then we are lost,” cried Jim, lying flat down upon the baby, and Tom following suit. “Have you seen anyone?” they heard the deep voice of the guard from the south gate. “No,” growled Hammond. “Then I suppose all my worry was for nothing, but I thought that this boat meant something; but I think it must belong to some fisherman.” “Of course it does, for heaven’s sakes go and let a fellow snooze.” Arkwright muttered something about not snoozing on duty and said out loud: