XXVIII
"KEEPS"
Tuesday.
Going to the village on an errand after breakfast, when I reached the deep mudholes where we always have to walk the fence some distance, I was delighted to see a gang of men at work on the road, and to recognize in them Blant and the other prisoners. They were picking the shale from the mountain side, and shovelling it into the bottomless holes, and all, save Blant, were hilariously happy to be out in the spring sunshine and fresh air, and talked gaily with me and other passers-by, the keeper, who leaned on his rifle, entering amiably into the conversation. He says that every spring the prisoners are brought out to work on the roads,—that it does them good, and the county too. I had not seen Blant for quite a while. It seemed to me that the sadness and sternness of his face were a little relaxed, and I rejoiced to know that time was doing something toward making his sorrow for Rich less poignant. I hope that the news I had Saturday about the babe,—that it is nothing but a feather, and must soon blow away—has not reached him.
Wednesday Night.
For two days the boys, especially Nucky, have made every excuse to run down the road and exchange words with the road-gang, who continue to work toward us. These frequent glimpses of Blant seem to maintain Nucky's spirits at the same high pitch manifested Sunday. While I am in the lowest depths over losing him in three more days, and while it seems to me his grief over Blant's trial and probable departure for Frankfort next week, and the almost certain loss of the babe, should hang more heavily than ever upon him, he is out shouting at marbles, or chasing the other boys about,—indeed, I never saw him in such spirits.
Thursday Night.
Nucky brought in word to-day that the mudholes are nearly filled, and the prisoners are preparing to-morrow to blast out rock and widen the road at the narrow place where our school-grounds begin.
What was my pained astonishment when, in the afternoon, the heads sent for me and said, "We have just heard down in the village that this school is a notorious gambling-place; that the boys do nothing but play keeps; and that some of yours are the ringleaders."
After supper I called the twelve around the sitting-room table, and laid the matter before them. "To think," I said, "that you could deceive me in this way, and play this game for more than six weeks when you have been told over and over that all gambling is forbidden here! Now, are you all guilty, or is there by chance one who has had the self-respect and moral courage not to play?"