ed Fox, "but perhaps they may find
themselves mistaken."

He reflected with satisfaction that there was no one in the house but Mrs.
Mason and himself. Yet as matters stood he was helpless even against her.

As it was uncertain how long his two jailers would be absent, it behooved
him to escape as soon as possible. There was a difficulty in the way, as
his hands were securely tied together at the wrist, and he could not
thrust them into his pocket and obtain the knife. But possibly by rolling
over he might manage to make it slip out. It seemed the only possible way
to accomplish his object, so he at once set to work. Rolling over and
over, he at length found himself in such a position that the knife--a
large jackknife--slipped from the gaping mouth of the pocket.

"Ha, that is the first step toward success!" he cried triumphantly.

Next he must pick up the knife and open it. This was easier than the first
step. His hands were tied at the wrist, but his fingers were free. It
seemed a simple thing to open the knife, but it took him some time. At
last, however, he succeeded.

"That is the second step toward liberty," he said in a jubilant tone.

The next thing was to cut the cord that bound his wrists. That was
difficult. In fact it took him longer than both the first steps together.
It chanced that the knife had not been sharpened for a long time. Then the
cord was stout and thick, and even had his hands been free it would have
taken him some time to cut it.

"If they should come back it would be maddening," he reflected, and as the
thought came to him he looked out of the window. But nowhere were the two
men visible.

"They are fools! They don't know me!" said the outlaw.

He resumed his efforts to cut the cord. After twenty minutes the last
strand parted, and with a feeling of relief John Fox stretched out his
hands, free once more.

His feet were tied, but with his hands at liberty there was little
difficulty in cutting the rope that tied them.

In less than five minutes the outlaw rose to his feet a free man.

He smiled--a smile of exultation and triumph.

"My Quaker friend will be surprised to find me gone. He will understand
John Fox a little better. He will have to wait a little longer for his
thousand dollars."

John Fox was himself again, but for the first time in ten years, except
when he was the temporary tenant of a jail, he was unarmed.

"What has that fellow done with my revolver?" he asked