The Yale expositor., 1914-12-24
CHAPTER VIII.

The boy from Misery rode slowly to-
ward Hixon. At times the moon strug-
gled out and made the shadows black
along the way. At other times 1t was
like riding N n huge caldron of pitch.
When he passed into that stretch OF
country at whose heart Jesse Purvy
dwelt he raised his voice in song. His
singing was very bad and the ballad
lacked tune, but it served its purpose
Of saving him from the suspicion of
furtiveness. Though the front OF the
house was black behind its heavy shut
ters he knew that his coming might be
noted. and night-riding at this par
ticular spot might be misconstrued in
the absence of frank warning.
The correctness of his inference
brought a brief smile to his lips when
he crossed the creek that skirted the
orchard and heard a stable door creak
softly behind him. He was to be fol-
lowed again-and watched, but he did
not look back or pause to listen for
the hoofbeats of his unsolicited escort.
On the soft mud of the road he would
hardly have heard them had he bent
his ear and drawn rein. He rode at a
walk, for his train would not leave I'M
til FIVE o'clock in the morning. There
was time in plenty.
It was cold and depressing as he
| trudged the empty streets from the
| livery stable to the railroad station,
| carrying his saddlebags over his arm.
| At last he heard the whistle and saw the
blazing headlight, and a minute later
| he had pushed his way into the smok-
ing car and dropped his saddlebags
on the seat beside him. Then, for the
! first time, he saw and recognized his
watchers. Purvy meant TO have Sam
! son Swallowed as far as Lexington. and
his movements from that point def
nitely reported. jim Asberry and Aaron
Hollis we're the chosen spies. He did
not speak to the two enemies who took
seats across the car, but his face
hardened, and his brows came together
in black scowl.
when gifts back" he promised
himself, you'll be one OF the fust
folks I'll look fer Jim Asberry, damn
We! All l hopes is tibet nobody else
don't git We fust. Ye blongs ter me.
The sleeping car to which he was
assigned after leaving Lexington was
almost empty, but he felt upon him the
interested gaze of those few eyes that
were turned toward his entrance. He
engaged every pair with a pair very
clear and steady and undropping, un
til somehow each lip that had started
TO twist in amusement Strengthened
and the twinkle that rose at first
glance sobered at second. Yet, fol
all his specious seeming of unconcern
Samson was waking to the fact thai
he was a scarecrow, and his sensitive
pride made him cut his meals short
in the dining car, where he was kept
busy beating down inquisitive eyes
with his defiant gaze. He resolved
after some thought upon definite pol
icy. 1t was a very old policy, but tC
him new-and a discovery. He would
change nothing in himself that in
volved a surrender OF code or convic
ton. But, wherever II could be done
with honor, he would concede to Gus
tom.
1t was late in the second afternoon
when he stepped from the train at Jer
sey City, to be engulfed in an un
imagined roar and congestion. Here
Il was impossible to hold his own
against the unconcealed laughter OF
the many, and he stood for an instant
glaring about like a Gagged tiger, while
three currents of humanity separated
and flowed toward the three ferry
exits. Then he saw the smiling face oil
Lescott, and Lescott's extended hand
Even Lescott, Immediately CARRIED and
fur-coated, seemed almost a stranger
and the boys feeling of intimacy froze
to inward constraint and difidence
But Lescott knew nothing OF that
The stole in Samson held true, mask
ing his emotions.
so you came" said the New Yorker
heartily. grasping the boys hand
where's your luggage? Well just
pick that up and make dash for the
ferry"
"Hyar hit Is" replied Samson, who
still carried his saddlebags. The
painters eyes twlnkled, but the mirtl
was so frank and friendly that the
boy instead of glazing in defiance
grinned responsibility.
Right, OH" laughed Lescott. 90
thought maybe you'd bring a trunk
but it's the wise man who travels
light"
He followed Lescott out to the foo
Of Twenty-third street. and stepped
with him into the tonneau of the
painters waiting car. Lescott LIVED
with his family uptown. for it hap
pened that, had his canvases pos
sessed no value whatever, he would
still have been in a position to drive
his motor and follow his impulses
about the world. II he did not take
the boy to his home, 1t was because