When Derwin returned to the jail and found the boy gone he was not much surprised. He walked slowly to his office and picked up the phone. "Let me speak to the sheriff," he said.... "Gibbons?" ... "This is Derwin, out at White Bear Lake." ... "Fine." ... "The wild boy escaped about an hour ago. He's sprung his cell lock someway." ... "No, I don't know which way he went, but I figured he might head back to St. Paul." ... "O. K." ... "I wish you'd do me a favor. Ask your men—and the police—not to shoot him. I'm sure he won't resist when you arrest him." ... "I know." ... "I know." He sighed. "That's right. You have to do what you think best." He hung up.
The boy went directly from the jail to the railroad tracks, nearly a mile past the depot. He hid in the weeds along the track until a slow freight passed, then climbed into the open door of a boxcar.
The string of freight cars was cut out of the train in the St. Paul yards. The boy stayed inside his car until several hours after dark, when he left his hiding place and went along the Mississippi, past Carlson's Landing, and up to the post office. There he stopped and seemed to be deciding what he should do next.
A half block away a policeman was checking the tires of parked cars. The boy saw him and began walking rapidly in the opposite direction. He hesitated at the street corner, then walked boldly out into the lighted area of the intersection. He had nearly reached the opposite sidewalk when he heard a shout behind him. He began to run. A police whistle sounded shrilly.
When the boy entered the park he appeared to wander casually, with his interest centered on no particular person or place, but his steps took him down a diagonal walk that led to the young mother and the carriage. The child of about six inside the carriage had a large head that wobbled spasmodically above its thin frame.
The boy walked past the mother without attracting her attention, and bent toward the child.
A terrified scream at his side jerked him erect.
"The beast!" The woman screamed with all the power in her lungs. She sprang at the boy, still screaming, and dug clawed fingers into his cheeks. "Get away from him, you beast! You horrible beast!"