CHAPTER VIII. FUGITIVES FROM JUSTICE.

On the next morning there was a marked scarcity of boys in places where, at ordinary times, boys most did congregate. The scamps who had scrambled about the edge of sacrilege on the preceding night, kept themselves carefully secluded from the general gaze, while other mischievous boys, having learned by sad experience that suspicion, like lightning, is much given to striking at objects that do not merit any such attention, devoted themselves industriously to home affairs, or went upon solitary journeys into the suburbs.

And these precautionary measures proved to be not without sense, for at a tolerably early hour the Post Office, which was also the office of the most popular of the two local justices of the peace, was approached by a strong delegation from the outraged Society of German Methodists. First came the renowned Vater Offenstein, supported by the Reverend Schnabel Mauterbach, pastor of the church. Vater Offenstein had not been able to keep his hair and clothing wet during the hot August night, but the water thrown from the syringe had not been very clean, so there were great stains upon the cotton shirt which its wearer would swear had been put on clean on the day of the service. The pastor bore the soiled and still damp copy of the Holy Book. Then came old Nokkerman, his hair carefully combed and soaped down, so that the justice might plainly see the bald spot which had been used as a target. Beside old Nokkerman walked Shantz the butcher, with his coat off, so that he might display the great red spot where the putty-ball had struck him. After them walked Petrus von Schlenker, to offer an affidavit that he had prayed during the service, though anyone who knew the gifts of the tongue of Petrus would have accepted a mere statement on that point as conclusive. Beside Petrus waddled Nuderkopf Trinkelspiel, jealously guarding in an empty paint can the bent pin which had caused him to disturb the meeting; he also bore, in their normal position, the well-patched trowsers through which the point of the pin had found its way.

Then came the sexton of the church, carrying under one arm the bench which Vater Offenstein had hurled at Satan's representative; in another hand he carried the broken glass and sash wrapped in two thicknesses of newspaper, and in his pocket was a match-box containing the papers and such other fragments as could be collected of the offending torpedoes. A number of witnesses followed, so that the postmaster-justice's little office was completely filled. Then the pastor announced that the party had called to make and substantiate a complaint, and various statements were volunteered before the justice could impress the assemblage with the necessity for administering oaths. Vater Offenstein, immediately upon being sworn, opened his coat, displayed his soiled shirt, and impressively held the Good Book aloft, opened at its stained, wet pages. Shantz the butcher delivered his own sworn statement with his face to the wall, the impressiveness of the proceeding being somewhat abated by his completely covering with his immense forefinger the red spot on the back of his neck; old Nokkerman bent nearly double so as to display his baldness as he talked; Petrus von Schlenker talked volubly to no purpose until cut short by the justice, and Nuderkopf Trinkelspiel, trying at the same time to hold aloft the torturing pin, look the justice impressively in the eye, and yet display the seat of offending beneath his upraised coat-tail, presented a figure which utterly destroyed judicial gravity. Then the sexton laid upon the table the little bench which Vater Offenstein had cast from the pulpit, and carefully unrolled the broken glass and sash, and brought up from the depth of his pocket the little but positive proof in the shape of fragments of torpedoes. Then the constable brought in lazy George Crayton, who had spent the night in the town jail, and who looked as pallid and guilty as if he had to answer for the crime of murdering a whole family.

George did not waive an examination; on the contrary, he had such a passion for confession that he included, in his list of accomplices, the name of every boy in town against whom he had any grudge whatever, and it was not until after the examination that it occurred to him that he personally had done nothing whatever to disturb the meeting. Then George's father gave bonds that his son should keep the peace, after which he led the youth home to the pain which follows discipline. Shantz the butcher turned up his shirt collar, the pastor and Vater Offenstein departed with the sacred Book, the sexton carried the pulpit bench back to its legitimate position. Old Nokkerman tried to scratch his head, but discovered, as his fingers slid impotently over the soaped locks, that the ends of justice are sometimes attained only through extra annoyance to the offended; Petrus von Schlenker, who had been slowly realizing that he had sustained no personal grievance, made the best of his time by engaging the justice on local politics; Nuderkopf Trinkelspiel carefully secured the offending pin, and the constable went in search of the yet unapprehended offenders.

Meanwhile, the innocent half of the Pinkshaw twins, who had been listening outside the window, had heard the list of the offenders pronounced by the justice as he wrote the warrant, and discovered to his horror that his own name was included therein, the informer having been uncertain as to which Pinkshaw twin was present. An inborn sense of equity suggested to him the application of the principle of an alibi, but later he realized that to be innocent yet suspected, would justify him in escaping the hated French class, and yet save him from the ordinary penalty of truancy. Away he sped to notify the whole list, and within half an hour nearly all the boys whose names were upon the warrant were informed of their legal status, while the constable, who fully realized how much work was before him, had barely finished strengthening himself at Gripp's rum-shop.

The first man notified was Jack, and as that youth had an utter abhorrence of loneliness he suggested to the Pinkshaw twin that he should name the Dead House blackberry patch as a safe place of rendezvous, inasmuch as nobody would be likely to go there, the blackberry season being over, there being no contagious disease raging in town, and the house being off the road to any where. He also suggested that the boys should bring with them whatever provisions they could lay hands upon. Then Jack, with his heart in his stockings, and his eyes feeling ready to overflow, made haste to collect a hatchet, a box of matches, his fishing tackle and whatever else he could think of, in his haste, as likely to mitigate the privations of exile. Great as his haste was, he found time to hide in the corncrib for a moment or two, kneel devoutly, and inform the Lord that he hadn't meant to do anything wrong, and that he hoped when next there was a scrape impending, the Lord would send an angel to forcibly drive Jack from the scene of action. More mature sinners, as they smile pityingly at this style of repentance, would do well to examine their own business consciences, and restrain their smiles until they ascertain whether they have not themselves indulged in many a similar ex post facto operation.

Arrived at the Dead House blackberry patch, Jack found quite an assortment of solemn-faced boys under the shady side of the high board fence. All of the guilty parties were there, except Sam Mugley, the saddler shop apprentice, whose employer had agreed to surrender the boy when necessary; there were also present many boys who preferred to flee the evils which they knew—to wit, French paradigms—than endure those they knew not of. Several boys immediately demanded of Jack what was to be done, and while the interrogated youth retired within himself to devise a plan of action, Ben Bagger, who read all the popular literature for boys, suggested that they should organize under the title of "The Bloody Land Pirates," and prey upon the society which had unjustly cast them out, but this suggestion was severely damaged by Jack, who said that the duty of the hour was to see that things were made no worse. Then Jack decreed that the party should retain its present quarters, separating if it chose, at nightfall, to slumber in neighboring barns, fishing at dawn and after sunset, and diverting itself by whatever means were available, until a general amnesty could be procured.

For an hour or two the group amused itself with conversation, the guilty Pinkshaw twin causing considerable merriment by a recital of the experiences of the righteous Germans on the preceding night. Jack endeavored to withdraw himself from the Pinkshaw twin's audience, but who does not enjoy retrospects of affairs which in themselves were enjoyable? So he lingered, afar off, yet within sound of the Pinkshaw twin's voice until that youth alluded to Jack having taken a seat among the pious, and then Jack, like the cowardly apostle Peter, began to curse and to swear. The ways of Peter came to his mind, both reproachingly and in comfort, for he remembered that Peter had behaved valiantly after discovering what a blatant, white-livered sort of a fellow he was, and Jack, to stifle his conscience, was willing for the moment to believe that if he himself swore, lied and put in a general denial, the evil might be excusable for the sake of the good it might bring. In this respect he so much resembled many an unscrupulous wire-puller in church affairs that no theological partizan can fail to sympathize with him.

After the story of the German Methodist meeting had concluded, conversation languished, and several boys complained of hunger. Jack took charge of the commissariat and having carefully garnered all the provisions that had been brought, he suggested to those who were guiltless (except of truancy) that if they would go boldly to the justice, claim to have been at Billy Barker's sister's party at the time of the outrage, and offer Billy, his sister and his mother in evidence, they would, without doubt, be cleared. When these boys had reluctantly departed, the assemblage was reduced to five boys, three of whom had done nothing worse than laugh at the capers which had been played upon the faithful, Jack and the Pinkshaw twin, who pleaded guilty of having thrown the spitball at old Nokkerman's bare scalp, constituting the remainder.

How these were to pass the time until night was a serious problem, when one of the innocent, who was also a loafer, produced a grimy pack of cards, and therewith he soon won all the fractional currency in possession of his companions; then he departed, having doubly avenged himself upon fate by dining heartily upon the stores of the exiles. Of the quartette which remained, Jack was outwardly the most cheerful and careless, but inwardly—well, he could not help thinking of the Spartan boy who allowed a fox to prey upon his vitals while he was denying any knowledge even of the existence of a fox anywhere nearer than the Apennines. Ruling in hell might have its social advantages over serving in heaven, but in whatever location a man may be, there will the appropriate mental temperature be also. Jack's remorse was genuine and terrible, and he admitted to himself that he would gladly make any reparation, endure any obloquy, suffer any punishment, in fact, go through anything that could be devised—except being caught by the constable.

When supper time came and went, it was discovered that the larder would be empty in the morning, but fortunately Matt appeared, coming at night, like Nicodemus, for fear of the authorities, and brought with him a whole loaf of bread and fifty or sixty cubic inches of boiled ham. But the boys slept out of doors that night, and awoke with such appetites that the bread and ham disappeared and they were still hungry. Then they stole many ears of scarcely ripe green corn, which they roasted and ate for dinner without successfully filling their respective aching voids. A raid was made upon a patch of early potatoes, but these did not roast satisfactorily, as any of the boys might have known had they ever tried an early potato before. The final result was that the boys slept supperless, and were at the mill-dam before daylight, where they were successful in demonstrating to certain occupants of the water that catching the early worm is not an unmixed blessing. But even fish, broiled on sticks or fried on a heated plowshare which somebody had stolen, are not particularly palatable when eaten without salt or bread. So the party finally sneaked toward town with hungry faces, vigilant eyes, and waistbands which would lap past their accustomed meeting place, and fasten, without extra tugging, at the first suspender button.

Meanwhile, the constable had been prowling industriously about the town, stimulated beyond average official enthusiasm by the offer of a ten-dollar bill from the German Methodist treasury, for the apprehension of all the culprits. He had examined the innocent boys with the result of determining that the juvenile mind is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. He had been to the mill-dam only to discover traces of early work by workers who, like the Arabs, had "silently stolen away;" he had watched under the windows of him
"——Who returneth,
Whose chamber lamp burneth
No more,——"

He had examined the cock-loft of the school, ridden along the river bank, sneaked beside the fences of popular orchards, and lain in ambush near brushheaps where laying hens most did congregate. He had even tracked, to unprofitable localities, various boys whom he suspected of conveying aid and comfort to the enemy, and all he could show for his pains was a badly sunburned nose, and a pair of boots considerably damaged by brush-wood and concealed stumps.

At noon, on the third day, he was completely exhausted, and determined that if ever a good watermelon could supply a pleasing finale to a noon-day meal, it was then. So he walked out to his own melon-patch, chuckling, as he went, over the strict seclusion of the same, for it occupied the centre of a hollow square, the sides of which consisted of dense rows of tall corn. As he approached this from his own back door, he perceived how vain is the cunning of man when confronted by the intuition of the bad boy; for there—at ease, and enjoying the particularly large melon which he had been reserving against a day when upon his wife might accidentally be inflicted a deluge of company—sat the boys for whom he had been looking.

THE STRONG ARM OF THE LAW.

The constable roared "Halt!" but with no more success than if he were an army officer in the midst of a panic, for the boys separated in the corn rows, and the official was undecided as to which to follow. So, indulging to an injudicious extent in that profanity which so naturally attends indecision and failure, he strove gloomily to the foot of his garden to discover, to his great delight, that Jack had stumbled, fallen and knocked all the breath out of his body without seeming able to regain enough for practical purposes. In an instant Jack was in the official's arms, and though he bit, scratched, kicked and begged, he was speedily invested in a pair of handcuffs in the constable's dining-room, and afterward led slowly through the main street to the town jail.