“I’ll—I’ll give another,” said the latter; but he uttered the words with the greatest reluctance. He was always ready to spend money, but he wanted to know, before he parted with it, that it was going to bring him some pleasure in return. As he spoke he made a step toward his trunk, but Huggins earnestly, almost vehemently, motioned him back.
“No, no, boys,” said he, “I’ll not take a cent from any of you. I am used to roughing it, and I shall get through all right. All I ask of you is to keep away so as not to direct attention to me. How soon will my absence be discovered?”
“That depends upon the floor-guard,” answered Jones. “If he is one of those sneaking fellows who is forever sticking his nose into business that does not concern him, he will report your absence to the officer of the guard when he makes his rounds at half-past nine. If the floor-guard keeps his mouth shut, no one will know you are gone until the morning roll is called. In any event no effort will be made to find you until to-morrow.”
“And then I may expect to be pursued, I suppose?”
“You may; and if you are not caught, it will be a wonder. Every effort will be made to capture you, for don’t you see that if you were permitted to escape, other boys would be encouraged to take French leave in the same way? Now, listen to me, and I will give you some advice that may be of use to you.”
If his advice, which was given with the most friendly intentions, had been favorably received, Jones would have said a good deal more than he did; but he very soon became aware that his words of warning were falling on deaf ears. Huggins was not listening to him. He was unaccountably nervous and excited, and Jones, believing that he would be better pleased by their absence than he was with their company, gave the signal for leaving by picking up his cap. He lingered long enough to shake hands with Huggins and wish him good luck in outwitting his pursuers and finding a vessel, and then he went out, followed by Enoch and Lester.
“How strangely he acted!” said the latter.
“Didn’t he?” exclaimed Enoch. “He seemed frightened at our offer to give him a few dollars to help him along. What was there wrong in that? If I had been in his place I would not have refused. Now he can take his choice between begging his food and going hungry.”
“I don’t envy him his long, cold walk,” observed Jones. “And where is he going to find a bed when night comes? The people in this country don’t like tramps any too well, and the first time he stops at a farm-house he may be interviewed by a bull-dog.”