es on him sence I see him in Michigan."

"It won't do to open the door: he'll git away if I do. Wait till he
gits tamed down a little, and then you shall see him. Good gracious! I
forgot all about the bar! Jest as like as not some nigger will come in
and help hisself to the best liquor behind the counter. Run down,
Nancy, and tell Nicholas to tend to the bar," said the captain.

"Run down yourself, you old fool!" replied the amiable lady. "Do you
think I come clear up here for nothin'? I want to see Sandy Duddleton
in his sodjer's clothes."

"It won't do to open that door: he will git out if you do. But I must
go down and look out for the bar. I shouldn't wonder if I had lost ten
cents by this time," replied Captain Boomsby; and I heard his heavy
step on the stairs as he went down.

A moment later I heard a hand applied to the handle of the door, and I
had no doubt it was Mrs. Boomsby trying to open it in order to obtain a
view of "Sandy Duddleton," which was the name by which I was known when
an inmate of the poor-house. But the door was locked, and the key was
in the pocket of the proprietor of the saloon. The lady seemed to be
angry because she could not get into the room where I was; and I must
add that I was also sorry she could not, for if she could get in, I
could get out.

She tried the door several times, but she could not get in. She said
nothing to me; and as I expected no assistance from her, I said
nothing. Presently I heard her step on the stairs, hardly less heavy
than that of her husband. I concluded that it must be five o'clock by
this time; and looking at my watch, I found it was half an hour later.
I wanted to get out before dark; and so far, I had not matured any plan
to accomplish this purpose. I went to the window, and examined the
boards which had been screwed up before it.

I had a large jack-knife in my pocket, which I had carried for several
years. It had a kind of scimitar-shaped blade I had used when at work
on rigging. But I had little hope of being able to remove the screws
from the hard pine, which was as hard to work as oak. I struck a match
I had in my pocket, and by the light of it made a careful examination
of the screw-heads in the boards. I saw that holes had been bored in
the wood to admit the screws: indeed, it would have been impossible to
get them through without boring. Of course this would make it easier to
remove the screws.

But what was the use of taking down the boa