“Oh, nonsense, Jack! You don’t need to worry, at all. I’ll keep my eyes open. But you haven’t told me yet how he got out. Was he pardoned?”
“Oh, wuss’n that!” answered Jack, disgustedly. “They went an’ put him on th’ pay-roll!”
“On the pay-roll!” repeated Allan. “Oh, you mean he’s been parolled?”
“Yes; what’s that mean?”
“It means that he’s released during good behaviour. As soon as he does anything wrong he’ll be whisked back into the penitentiary, and won’t get out again till his term’s out.”
“Much good that’ll do,” commented Jack, “arter th’ mischief’s done! That’s like lockin’ th’ stable door arter th’ hoss is stole!”
“He’s probably promised to be good.”
“He’d promise anything,” said Jack; “why, he’d sell his soul t’ th’ devil, t’ git another chance at ye. Ye must look out fer yourself, me boy.”
“I will,” promised Allan, with a laugh, as he swung himself aboard the train. “Don’t worry.”