oment."

She perceived a chance of escape and roused herself. She thought if she
could only get out of the room she might save herself by flight or by
outcry.

"Wait here," she whispered, "and be very quiet."

He kissed his fingers to her without a word. She opened the door into
the next room, which was the kitchen and dining-room of the family, and
there, not three feet from her, in the dim light, haggard and wan,
bareheaded, his clothes in rags about him, she saw Sam Sleeny.

XIX.

A LEAP FOR SOMEBODY'S LIFE.

When Sleeny was led from the room of the police justice in the
afternoon, he was plunged in a sort of stupor. He could not recover
from the surprise and sense of outrage with which he had listened to
Offitt's story. What was to happen to him he accepted with a despair
which did not trouble itself about the ethics of the transaction. It
was a disaster, as a stroke of lightning might be. It seemed to him the
work had been thoroughly and effectually done. He could see no way out
of it; in fact, his respect for Offitt's intelligence was so great that
he took it for granted Andy had committed no mistakes, but that he had
made sure of his ruin. He must go to prison; if Farnham died, he must
be hanged. He did not weary his mind in planning for his defence when
his trial should come on. He took it for granted he should be
convicted. But if he could get out of prison, even if it were only for
a few hours, and see Andy Offitt once more--he felt the blood tingling
through all his veins at the thought. This roused him from his lethargy
and made him observant and alert. He began to complain of his
handcuffs; they were in truth galling his wrists. It was not difficult
for him to twist his hands so as to start the blood in one or two
places. He showed these quietly to the policemen, who sat with him in a
small anteroom leading to the portion of the city jail, where he was to
be confined for the night. He seemed so peaceable and quiet that they
took off the irons, saying good-naturedly, "I guess we can handle you."
They were detained in this room for some time waiting for the warden of
the jail to come and receive their prisoner. There were two windows,
both giving view of a narrow street, where it was not bright at
noonday, and began to grow dark at sunset with the shade of the high
houses and the thick smoke of the quarter. The windows were open, as
the room was in the third story, and was therefore considere