Pop unlocked a cell and Jeff and Pal entered. The bars were in front only; the cells were separated by brick walls. Adjusting his eyes to the gloomy interior, Jeff saw two bunks with dirty mattresses suspended by chains that were attached to the wall. There was an iron stand upon which stood a chipped basin and a faded towel. Beneath the stand was a bucket. Pop slammed the door.
"I sleep in front," he advised. "I've got a sawed-off shotgun and I know how to use it. Besides, just trying to break out can mean six months in prison. Think it over."
"Sure." Jeff smiled.
Pop strode back to the desk while the two chicken thieves shouted raucous insults. Jeff lost himself in thought.
The situation had been quite obvious from the moment he entered the jail. Few towns had a full-time jailer for two or three prisoners—unless there were other factors involved—and almost without exception such factors existed only when there were certain affairs that would not bear close examination. The majority of Cressman's citizens probably were honest, hard-working people, but some of its officials were not. The fact that they could be dishonest only because the rest were indifferent to the way their town's affairs were conducted did not change the situation. If he were one of the inside clique, Pop would have a better job, but he evidently knew enough so that he had to be given something in order to prevent his talking. Pop's reaction when Jeff expressed such utter willingness to take the matter up with an attorney—offered additional proof of this.
Jeff let his hand fondle Pal's head as he considered his chances. There was little possibility of breaking out by force and it would not be a good idea to do so anyway. As things stood, he faced a minor charge. Breaking jail was a major one. It was illegal to keep him confined for seven days without benefit of counsel, but that could be brushed over. They could always claim that they had held him on suspicion of some more serious charge.
Jeff sighed. He held a club over Cressman, but Cressman held him in jail. He scratched Pal's ears and murmured,
"Let it never be said that Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd., gave way to despair."
"What'd you say, Jeff?" Ike called.
"Comfortable home," Jeff answered gaily.