The National tribune., 1897-08-12

seizing the jailer at the door, on account of
his powerful build and great strength. l
can scarcely remember now the details of
the work assigned to each man. My own
part of the work was with the squad that
was TO tackle the guards in the front yard.
We prolonged the supper ceremony as long
rs possible in order to gain time. After
some 90 minutes, perhaps, the jailer returned
to the door, and putting his bunch of keys
down to tile great lock, it loosened with
loud click and came ont of the staple, when
Mr.. Turner stood on the threshold.
THE CRITICAL MOMENT.
We were all watching Capt. Fry, for the
noble man of prayer and tears was cool
headed, brave soldier as well. He took his
position near the door, and, as the jaier
stepped in, he placed his hand on his
shoulder as if TO speak privately with him,
and, with smile as pleasant as a May
morning and the courly obeisance of
cavalier, he threw Mr.. Turner entirely off
his guard as he said:
"A pleasant evening Mr.. Turner" and
reaching his arm around the jailer's neck,
| continued, we have concluded to take
walk - At this instant he clapped his
| hand over Turner's mouth, suppressing that
mans half uttered call for the guard and
held the surprised and struggling jailer as
| if in a vice. Robert Buffnm at the same
time sprang like cat, and with single
surge wrenched the bunch of keys from The
| jailer's hand. Turner was stout, wiry
man, and struggled violently, but Fry held
him with the powerful embrace of a
"grizZly," while steady hand over his
mouth and neck kept him from making any
alarm, Fry at the same time cautioning him
/ ly.n bot ha ha h..rt
Buffum, in the meantime, keys in hand
was singing the doors open right and LETT
and, in less time than am telling it all the
prisoners who wanted to 20 were marshaled
in the hall and ready for descent ON the
guards below. Luckily for old Thor he
was not about; if he had been, glass
bottle on the head would have been his por-
tion. To 60 to the yard, front and rear, was
but the work of an instant
The guards were thunderstruck with sur
prise, and were disarmed before they re-
covered their senses. except three cowardiy
sand-lappers, who ran out of the gate scream
ing, Murder! Corporal Of the Guard !!
Captain of the Guard! Police! Murder !"
and other EXPLANATIONS of alarm.
After yelling themselves nearly hoarse,
they took refuge behind the fence, outside
of the gate, and pointed their muskets in
side. Several OF the guards had been
knocked down and roughly handled. One
fellow, more cOmbative than some of his
comrades, brought his musket to guard
and showed fight, but one of our party
knocked him cold with heavy bottle. The
cowardiy yelpers who had run to the gate
and given the alarm, had spoiled our arrange
ments for getting away to the woods quietly
but did not realize this at the time, so in
| tapt was I in parfnrminv NV mart ut the
front gate.
MARK WOODS WARNING.
ran to a pile of loose brick near the cor.
ner of the Jail, and arming myself with these
i ran for the fellows at the gate. They
would dodge back when would throw al
them. l must have hurt one of them sc.
verely, and whether l had any assistance
from any of our party cannot tell. know
I kept calling and waiting for them to come
on, when, suddenly, heard familiar voice
call my name.
"Alf come on quick! the boys are getting
over the fence at the back of the jail; hurry
up, for Gods sake, for there's a company ol
; guards coming double-quick."
This was my old comrade, Mark Wood
and his voice was the first warning had OF
the danger that threatened me, or of the
!. necessary change in our program.
Then bounce that fence" I yelled te
Mark, and, dropping my brick-bats, also
sprang for the fence, my feet scarcely touch
ing the ground We both reached the Tor
of the high fence at the same instant, and
not a second too soon, for as glanced over
my shoulder from the fence-top ! saw thu
guards with cleaning muskets pouring il
7 at the gate, and before l could throw my
leg over and spring off voliey was fired
the balls rattling and whizzing all about us
One bullet struck the picket under my
$ thigh, and SO close that the splinters lacer
ated my Hesh, and as my feet struck tn,
ground on the outside said to Mark: g.
am hit"
: Ito Be eontinss&)