“You are the one that needs it. You can’t feed a hungry man like me for nothing.” Timothy shoved the twenty-dollar bill in Jim’s shirt pocket. “When you go to town, would you buy any Louisville paper you can find for the last week. I’d like to know what they are saying about me.”
“I know I can get the recent ones,” said Jim. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Right now I better get home before my folks, because I left a note saying I was hunting for the man that stole Ticktock.”
Jim rode home bursting with excitement. He wished there was someone to whom he could tell his exciting tale, but such a course was out of the question. Others might not realize, as he did, that Timothy was the victim of a bad break. Anyone who would try to dope a horse deserved to be hit on the head, he decided. He had to guard the secret of Timothy very closely, because if the police found him they might hang him. He guessed that’s what they did with murderers.
The family had not returned when Jim arrived. He destroyed his note and then began grooming Ticktock. He was busily at work when the Meadows’ car drove in the lane. Feeling full of mystery and importance, he hailed his parents.
“Ticktock came back!”
“So I see,” said Mr. Meadows. “How’d it happen?”
“He just came trotting up the road. Got loose I guess.” The explanation seemed so tame compared to the story he could have told, but he held himself sternly in check.
The family gathered around to welcome the mustang back. Mrs. Meadows was very relieved, as she had worried over her son’s evident grief. Jean was overjoyed. She was becoming almost as fond of the pony as was Jim. In the general excitement, everyone talked at once and neither the father nor mother noticed anything unusual in Jim’s behavior. Jean, however, wasn’t to be deceived. She sensed that her brother was acting a little too mysterious and self-satisfied to know as little as he did. She said nothing, but watched him narrowly.
On Monday Jim made some excuse and went to town early. At the local store, which sold newspapers, he was able to get Louisville papers from the preceding Friday through Monday. He was very conscious of his exciting new rôle of helping a hunted man and played the part with all his usual intensity. Afraid that it might look suspicious to hunt through the papers while in town, he stuffed them in one of the saddlebags without even a glance. While walking down the street he met Constable Whittaker, to whom he gave a very cordial greeting. He grinned to himself. Constable Whittaker represented the only forces of law and order Jim had ever known. Being a conspirator who was outwitting Whittaker was rare fun.
After buying a few groceries at the store, Jim completed his errands by purchasing a quart of ice cream and some cigarettes. They were to be a surprise for Timothy. He didn’t know if the fugitive smoked, but he suspected that he did. He was rather nervous while buying the cigarettes, as he knew they were not supposed to be sold to anyone under twenty-one. However, he had occasionally purchased them for his father.