Chapter 8

AN ARREST

Jet understood only too well that even if he should come off victorious in this battle with the dog, and in so doing make sufficient noise to be heard by the inmates of the house, all his efforts would have been in vain.

Although the moon had not yet risen, the light of the stars permitted the boy to see his antagonist, who, on first striking the ground on the outside of the barricade, stood for an instant as if at a loss to locate the intruder.

Jet thought it possible he might yet escape, and started toward the shelter of the trees; but the sound of his footsteps soon told the brute where to look for his prey.

With a low, angry yelp he turned, standing motionless a few seconds, during which time Jet continued to back farther away from the house in order that there might be less chance the noise of the conflict would be overheard.

Then the dog crouched for a spring, and Jet, every muscle strained to its utmost tension, stood ready to receive him.

The battle was short.

While the dog was yet in the air Jet struck out with the heavy stick, and his aim was perfect.

The club fell squarely on the brute's head, crushing the skull as if it had been an egg-shell, and without so much as a moan the dog dropped dead.

There was yet another to be met, but so far he had not made his presence known save by angry barks, and Jet ran for the woods with all speed.

He gained the shelter of the trees and paused for an instant to look back.

If he must meet the companion of the animal he had killed it would be better to do so at the edge of the undergrowth where he could have a fair view of his antagonist, rather than fight in the darkness where the branches would obstruct his movements.

No sound came from the inmates of the house to show that they had been alarmed.

From the window of the room where Jet had heard them moving about a bright light could be seen, and what seemed very strange, considering the fact that the night was far from cold, the men had built such a roaring fire that the sparks were coming from the chimney in wreaths.

Even where he stood Jet could hear those dull, heavy blows at regular intervals, which, since it proved their work had not been interrupted, showed that the men had no idea their prisoner was making his escape.

The remaining dog was rushing to and fro barking furiously; but, contrary to Jet's expectations, he did not leap over the barrier.

"I don't reckon there's any use waiting longer for him. It will be better to take my chances of fighting among the trees than to stay until those fellows come out."

With this thought in his mind Jet started at a rapid pace through the woods, exerting himself to the utmost to keep ever before him the direction of the morning's journey.

The bread and bacon he had put in his pocket before attempting the escape, and now as he made his way through the underbrush he ate leisurely, for strength was the one thing needful for the successful completion of the task, and to retain this, food was essential.

More than once he fell over the trunk of a tree, or was thrown by the vines which caught his feet as in a snare; but each time he arose to his feet undismayed, and the weary tramp was continued without a halt until considerably past midnight, when he had arrived at the railroad track.

With plenty of money in his pocket there was no thought of walking any farther than necessary, and Jet's only desire was to find a depot.

By continuing on half an hour longer in a direction opposite the one taken by him when he met the three apparent tramps, the boy found that for which he sought.

The night train would be along in ten minutes, so the station-agent said, and Jet bought a ticket for Albany.

He had been tempted to change one of the ten-dollar bills for this purpose; but decided not to do so after realizing that it might be imprudent to display so much money.

Of the amount given him by the manager of the minstrel company he had enough left to pay for a passage and purchase something to eat in the morning, consequently there was no necessity of using that which he had found.

Of the journey to Albany he knew absolutely nothing.

The long tramp had given him an overpowering desire for sleep, and the soft seat was rest-inviting, therefore in less than five minutes from the time he boarded the train his eyes were closed in slumber.

On arriving at his destination one of the brakemen awakened him with a vigorous shaking, which would have done credit to a giant's strength, and he went out in the early morning air decidedly refreshed.

His plans had all been laid during the tramp through the woods, and he knew exactly what to do.

First breakfast was necessary, and this important duty he attended to without delay, spending therefor the last of his change.

It was six o'clock when he arrived at the Hudson River depot, and learned that a train for New York would leave in a short time.

"Give me a ticket," he said, producing one of the bills found in the house from which he escaped.

The ticket-seller took the money, looked at it scrutinizingly for an instant, and then at the boy.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Out on the road a piece. Don't think I stole it, do you?"

"Tell me where you got it."

"I don't know. It wasn't any town, an' I ain't acquainted 'round this way."

"Who gave it to you?"

"A man."

"Did you earn it?"

"Say, mister, what's the matter?" and now Jet began to be alarmed, for the ticket-agent looked very stern.

Instead of replying the man beckoned to an officer who was standing near by, and said, in a low tone:

"Take this boy on a charge of passing counterfeit money. I will be up to make a complaint as soon as I can get away."

"Come with me," and the officer laid his hand heavily on Jet's shoulder.

"What's the matter?" Jet asked, as he tried to release himself, but succeeded only in getting such a choking as nearly deprived him of breath.

"You'd better come along without any trouble, for I don't want to club a little shaver like you."

"But I'm going to New York, an' that man has got my money."

"I reckon you won't need it yet awhile."

"Tell me what business you've got to haul me off like this?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

By this time quite a crowd had began to gather, and realizing that it would be useless to make any further objections, Jet added:

"Let up on my collar a little so's I can breathe, an' I'll go along peaceable."

The officer did as he had been requested, but not to such an extent that there was any danger his prisoner would have an opportunity to escape, and the two walked rapidly along the street followed by a throng of boys.

At the police station Jet was led in front of a high desk, and the officer said in reply to a question from the sergeant:

"Charged by the ticket-seller at the depot with passing counterfeit money."

The small prisoner was asked his name, age, and place of residence, to all of which he made truthful answers, and then he was searched thoroughly.

As a matter of course this could only result in the finding of the second bill, and the sergeant said, severely:

"I reckon this isn't his first offense of the same kind. Who sent you out to pass that money, my boy?"

Jet hesitated.

He had believed it would be possible for him to give such information to the inspector as would result in the arrest of the murderers, and was not willing to tell these officers the whole story.

"I didn't know the money was bad," he said, after a brief time of reflection. "Is that the only reason why you are going to keep me here?"

"Before the business is ended you'll find that to be serious enough."

"But is it all?"

"Yes."

"Then will you send word to the inspector in New York that District Messenger No. 48 is here, and wants to see him right away?"

"So? You're the boy who is wanted so badly in New York, eh?"

"I don't know anything about that; but I must see the inspector mighty soon or it'll be too late."

"Too late for what?"

"That's jest what I can't tell you."

"It may be possible I shall make you."

"You can try; but it won't be any use, for I won't say a word to anybody but him."

"He has nothing to do with this case of passing counterfeit money."

"I know it; but there's somethin' else of a good deal more importance that he's got a finger in. It don't make any difference to me, about the money, for I've done nothin' wrong, however you try to fix it."

Jet spoke in such a tone of independence that the sergeant would have made him feel the weight of his authority but for the fact that word had been sent out from the New York Police Headquarters in such a peculiar manner as to leave no doubt of the boy's being an important prisoner or witness, and he could not well decline to grant the request.

"You may think to get out of the scrape by playing this game, but I promise you'll be in a worse box than ever if the inspector don't like your message."

"I'll run the risk," Jet replied, calmly, feeling that his arrest would be a matter of but little moment if through it he should be able to communicate with the inspector before the men in the woods would have time to get away.

"It would be much better if you confided in me, for just at present you are in a disagreeable position, and I could do considerable toward helping you."

"We'll let things go as they are, providin' you let the inspector know I've got to see him right away," Jet replied, and the sergeant could not well continue the conversation.

The small prisoner was confined in one of the cells; but due care was taken in regard to his comfort, for by this time all in the station had begun to look upon him as a very important person.

Jet was not disturbed because of the fact that he had been arrested on a charge of passing counterfeit money; already he had a shrewd suspicion as to the value of his discoveries, and felt quite certain he would receive a warm and friendly reception from the inspector.