in no little amazement. This was
the second time he had escaped from the Missouri prison, which argued
well for the man's keenness and capability, or else ill for the
official management of the prison.

"It was from the St. Louis prison that I escaped," explained Martin
Skidway a little later. "I never got inside the State institution a
second time. I've had a sweet time of it thus far."

"Tell me how you made your escape," said Dyke Darrel, who sat with his
back against a tree, and regarded the young counterfeiter in wonder.

"There isn't much to tell," returned Skidway. "I had no assistance,
but it seems that a pair of burglars had broken out by filing off the
grating to one of the corridor windows, and the opening had not been
repaired when I was taken to the jail. I was left in the corridor a
minute while the jailor was attending some other prisoners, and that
minute gave me the opportunity. I mounted a chair, climbed through the
window, and made my escape by the light of the moon. Of course there
was a big search, but I remained hidden in an old cellar under a
deserted house in a grove within the city limits, for several days,
and finally made good my escape from the State."

"And now?"

"I am going to put the ocean between me and the beaks of American
law."

Dyke Darrel regarded the speaker with mingled emotions. He saw in this
daring young fellow much talent, that had it been rightly directed,
might have made an honorable place in the world for Martin Skidway.

"I am helpless to arrest your steps just at present," groaned the
detective. "Would you do it after what has happened, if you were in a
condition to do so?" demanded the convict, bending over the man on the
ground, regarding him with a menacing look.

"Duty often calls one to do that which is disagreeable," answered Dyke
Darrel. A deep frown mantled the brows of the convict.

"I see that my mercy was misdirected," he said. "It seems that I have
saved your life only to give you a chance to dog me to doom. Think you
I am fool enough to permit this?"

There was a menace in the man's voice that Dyke Darrel did not like.

"I am at present helpless," he said. "I don't imagine you will harm a
man who is in no condition to injure you if he would."

"But you can talk. The first man who comes along will hear from you
that an escaped convict is in the rural districts of New York, and a
telegram will set ten thousand officers on the lookout for me. With