“Now, see here, lads,” said I, savagely, “we are all wrong as to our course.” I added, “Do you want to make the Ohio River?”
“Certainly,” replied Tall Jim.
“Well,” I went on, “this stream empties into the Ohio, and you’ll never find it by going up hill.”
“You have a cheek to tell me what course to take,” put in Utley, angrily, adding a curse by way of emphasis. Turning to Wilson, he asked, “Are you going to stick with me, or are you for that interloper?”
With this thrust at me, he resumed the course up-stream, the others following meekly; and I, hardly knowing what to do under the conditions, trailed on, but doing some pretty tall thinking. After what seemed about half an hour, Tall Jim called on Utley to halt and declared he thought I was right. This brought forth an argument from the obstructionist, and considerable time was wasted in high words, but to my relief it resulted in our course being reversed. Retracing our steps, we continued alongside the stream, and as we pushed on the moon showed its face, in some respects to our advantage, in others not so much so. In the first place, it made travelling, which had been difficult, easier, the darkness often causing us to pitch headlong into pitfalls, and, on the other hand, the better light made a much surer mark of us, should we chance upon our enemies. As it was not within our power to control the queen o’ the night, we tramped on, taking a great chance of losing our liberty. Finally I decided to brave the bulldozing tactics of Jack Utley, and, addressing my words to George Wilson, though in a way to all, I said, “It’s sheer folly to expose ourselves like this!”
But Wilson cautioned me to refrain from expressing my views a few minutes longer, which I did, though feeling that we were walking into the lion’s mouth. It was somewhat near two o’clock when we came to a pike road, running parallel with the stream, and upon pursuing it for a short distance, we came up to a small village. The lads were inclined to pass through it, but then I would not be kept quiet.
“I’ll not go a step farther,” was my decision. “Here we are, in a light fit to read a newspaper, taking this tremendous chance. I’ll not do it longer.”
Addressing myself to Wilson, I continued: “You must know that the whole country has heard of the robbery by this time, and here we are, six of us, wandering through a strange land, half the time not knowing where we are going. It’s simply a case of breaking in jail, instead of keeping out of it.”
Again Wilson urged me to stick to him and the gang, and to show a disposition to be ruled by the majority, whatever my private opinions might be.
“Now, George,” I went on, “if there is anything coming to me, I’ll meet you in New York and get it.”