Jerry's Reward

by Evelyn Snead Barnett

Then suddenly the stillness of the hour was broken by the loud report of a pistol not half a square away. All the policemen rushed in the direction of the sound, and saw a man fleeing in the distance. Two of them pursued him, blowing their whistles as they ran. The other two stopped to argue whether they had better help their comrades or return to their former hiding-place.

But while they talked an exciting scene had occurred. As soon as the shot was fired the thief on the outside made a break for the gate. Jerry started after him, but the rogue jumped the fence, and ran off, so, not to waste time in a fruitless chase, the crooked little old man turned back to find himself confronted by two more fugitives. For the shot on the outside was a prearranged warning of danger, and as soon as the burglars on the inside heard it, they rushed from the house with their booty.

They, too, were about to jump the fence when Jerry, wondering what the police were doing, and desperate at the idea of all three of the rascals eluding them, sprang at them brandishing his club and yelling like a dozen Comanche Indians.

At the same time Mr. Morton appeared at the door with a shot-gun, and the burglars, thinking they had twenty foes instead of two, began a fight for life.

Mr. Morton stood framed in the doorway with a bright light behind him. The man nearest Jerry, the same strapping fellow who had entered in the afternoon, raised his arm, and there was a flash of metal as he took steady aim at Mr. Morton's breast. Another instant, and ten little children would have been fatherless; but a resounding whack from a hickory stick sent a shot into the air, and the hand that held the pistol dropped, nerveless. The would-be murderer tottered a few steps, then fell in a heap on the grass.

The remaining burglar, seeing that the game was up, dropped his plunder, and started to run. But, as luck would have it, he ran straight into the arms of the two policemen, who were returning to the spot they ought never to have quitted; and the policemen, not being able to get away, could not help making him their prisoner.

The same luck befriended the other two officers; for, coming back from a fruitless chase of the man who had fired the decoying shot, they fortunately were in time to capture the man who had jumped the fence, and were heroes among their fellows for nine days after.

The commotion had roused the whole neighbourhood. Windows were raised by frightened women, and half-dressed men ran into the street. Lights were quickly brought, and an excited crowd gathered round the prisoners, talking and asking a thousand questions.

The two men were handcuffed, and were about being carried off when a dark object on the grass attracted attention. A man, alive but unable to move. "Who is he?" "How did he get there?" Everybody surprised excepting Jerry.

"I beg your pardon, sirs," said the old fellow. "Please excuse me, sirs,"—turning humbly from one to another,—"but I had to do it. He was going to shoot, and I couldn't stand that, sirs, so I just tapped him a bit with my friendly stick."