The Winslow mail., 1914-05-16

| ounces Of gasoline, prepared to make
the test He bound the instrument to
one of his crippled feet, hobbled to the
the ignition spark.
Two minutes later his absence was
discovered by the guards who lined up
the men to count them before return
ing them to their cells. There was no
need to speculate as to the identity of
the missing man. Pete Timmons' Grip
| pied form was always conspicuous
among the prisoners-and besides, Ri
cardo was the first to shout his name.
He was trusty now and had the
| charge of assisting the warders. His
hatred for the convict had grown until
it surpassed every other emotion; now
the thought that Haynes might have
escaped goaded him to fury of rage.
| Shouting wildly, he ran toward the
door of the machine shop, broke it
open and rushed inside accompanied
by the guards. The lights were turned
on and Haynes was found lying uncon-
scious against a wall with concussion
of the brain.
The test had been successful be-
yond his widest hopes. No sooner had
the gas engine come into operation
than the gyroscope, whose motive pow
er Haynes had ignorantly turned on to
the full, attached as it was to his Grip
pied feet, carried him across the ma
chine shop with the speed of the wind.
By miracle of luck he escaped a col
lision with the machines and was
| dashed into the opposite wall, stunned
by the impact But for the interposi-
ton of some barrels, he would have
been dashed to pieces.
BY another miracle, the strap that
bound the gyroscope to his feet broke
under the strain. When Haynes was
picked up the powerful machine lay
hidden from sight under heap of
scrap into which it had plunged, and
there it hummed, inaudible beneath
the layers that concealed it, until it
ran down from want of gasoline.
When, on his return to the machine
shop, the prisoner found his machine
among the debris, uninjured, the hope
of freedom, hitherto but dimly imag-
ined, suddenly became a burning real
ity. He had accomplished all but the
1 last step. If he could once get free of
those confining walls, his gyroscope
with him, he knew that escape was
certain. But inside he was quite help
less. And only three weeks remained.
He knew the day on which his enemy
would be set free; and, if Ricardo pre-
ceded him into the world outside, his
plans would be shattered probably for
ever.
Then came the unexpected stroke of
luck which cOunterbalanced every
thing that had gone against him.
Feigning that the accident had made
him lose, courage, Haynes had pleaded
to be transferred to the shoe shop
again, from which there was desper-
ate hope of obtaining access to the
outer yard. But the prison doctor
looked him over on the occasion of
his last visit and noted the wasted
body, the prison pallor and the cough
! which he had acquired from working
among particles of steel.
That man needs fresh air. he said
Let him accompany the gangs at
work on the new prison"
The edict was given out on a Friday
morning. That afternoon Haynes set
about taking the machine to pieces
By the time the shop was closed he
had reduced it to it's primitive condi-
ton of scrap metal. The searching of
the men was more or less perfunctory
and none of the guards suspected. that
''Pete Timmons" meditated escaping,
for in spite of his evil record he had
| always proved himself to be a model
prisoner. On the Saturday morning,
Haynes contrived to stow away the re-
mainder of the machine
That afternoon, while he worked
feverishly within his cell, Ricardo
came merrily past, stopped and looked
in. Haynes glanced up at him and
stared in amazement. The man was
resplendent in a new suit of blue
serge; in his pockets were silver coins
which he was jingling.
"Good-by, old friend" Ricardo called
through the bars. 81 go out under the
new law today instead of Wednesday.
| go to find your wife. See, have let
ters from her all the time" he con-
tinued, patting his breast pocket. MAY
be you did not know. Yes, and then
| find your daughter, la bella Eleanora.
Maybe I like her better than your
wife, and maybe not SO well-time will
show. We meet again, in nine years,
lis it not?" he ended refectively. He
stretched out his hand warily. Good
by, old friend. Maybe you see me Mon
day, maybe not"
On Monday, Haynes carried a few
! fragments of his machine out of the
prison, riding in the contractors cart,
beside which trudged the convicts and
their guards. The breath of the fresh
air, the blue sky, the freedom of the
waste country, stunned him; at first
he could not think
| Stretched out upon the rocks among
the toiling men he ruminated bitterly.