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I wouldn't like to be like that J. Jervice man with his tricks the man that tried to sell me. I'd tell you all about him but it would take a long time and this letter ain't ever going to be sent, anyway. I'm going to do better than send a letter. Just as soon as it's safe I'm coming to see you and I'm going to fix it so I can earn a living for you and you won't have to work any more.
"He's earned a ride and I promised it and I'm a man of my word. You be off, now, and leave him alone." "You are spoiling his best chance," said Mr. Gates. "I am not interested in the school or the reward. I am simply trying to do my duty to the boy." "Well, you've done it," cried Mr. J. Jervice, as his car gathered headway. "Good-by to ye." He turned to Glen as the car got into its speed.
There was murder in the man's appearance, evidently enough, for J. Jervice eagerly protested. "You don't want to do no murder, now. Murder means hangin'!" "Shut up!" commanded the leader. "Look what ye got us into. What can we do with him?" "We'll have to hide him till we git away," said Jervice. "Get me a little rope an' I'll do him up scientific." "No good trying to hide him round here.
"Let's trail along kind o' slow and watch him awhile," suggested Apple. "Maybe he'll be stopping somewhere." As it happened this guess was well founded. Mr. J. Jervice had two reasons for stopping. One was that he wanted himself to be seen a good, long distance away from the bank, so that he could prove that he was far distant from that region if any robbery occurred.
On a shelf lay a bundle of sticks. He pulled on one and found on the other end a flag. It was an emblem. The flag should bring him freedom. Glen found that the flag stick would just poke through the ventilator railing. Being effectively poked it struck Mr. J. Jervice neatly in the back of the neck, and the poke being vigorous, it aroused his attention quite thoroughly.
He watched eagerly for signs of an officer or Mr. J. Jervice, but also fruitlessly. Had he but known it he was perfectly safe, for Mr. J. Jervice was again having troubles of his own. Perhaps this was his day for trouble. Spending a whole day cooped up in a little niche about ten feet long by three wide, even though it be as high as the heavens, is dreary work for a boy. The time dragged terribly.
You'll lose money on it, Mr. Jervice. I have a sharp, open knife in my hand. I'm going to turn loose on everything in " "Don't you dare," shouted Mr. Jervice. "But I will if you don't stop. You want to send me back to the reform school. All I'll get will be a little longer sentence. Will that pay you for your goods?" Mr. J. Jervice reluctantly stopped his car.
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