“Sure! But he didn’t have to shoot. An’ then that sap Donovan kid wouldn’t come when he had that break. He said we’d be caught an’ we’d get a worse stretch. Aw, he was just yeller! Anyways, it was lucky that us guys didn’t get it like the bulls. Only you was out, kid. Well, we’re on our way, so we should worry, hah?”
“Where we goin’?” Skippy asked as calmly as he could.
Frost and Barker were deep in some conversation of their own and seemed to be paying no attention to their charges. Fallon leaned close to Skippy’s ear and whispered, “Between you an’ me, kid, I think it’s a hideout Barker’s got somewhere in the country. We been ridin’ an hour now. Barker’s boss—see? I think he’s done a coupla stretches hisself ’cause Frost told me on the Q. T. that Barker’s got feelin’ for kids that get a break like we got an’ so he helps ’em crash out whenever he can. He’s gonna keep us under cover awhile till things quiet down an’ then he’s gonna get us out west to some friends. I ain’t s’posed ta tell though. Frost says Barker wants to s’prise us.”
“And you say Frost—Barker’s your friend too, huh?” Skippy asked timidly. “You known ’em long, huh Fallon?”
“Nah,” Nickie answered readily. “I ain’t never laid eyes on Frost till in the cooler this afternoon.” And in a hushed voice, he added: “I ain’t had no good look at Barker yet, ridin’ like we are without no lights. I first hear his voice when I get in this car—he just waited for us when he sees how things was. We should worry when we got friends like them?”
Friends! Skippy put his hand to his head, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.
CHAPTER VII
THE HOUSE FORGOTTEN
The question pounded in his head more insistently than the pain he was suffering. Did not this whole unlooked-for episode of Frost and Barker smack too much of Dean Devlin’s tactics? And could it not be possible that Devlin might change not only his name but his tactics also? After all, he concluded, it was but a step from Barker to Devlin and from the Delafield Reformatory to the Juvenile Court. The man Devlin that Carlton Conne had told him about was certainly clever enough to keep a step ahead of the police every time.
Skippy felt more hopeless about it all as the minutes sped by. Here they were going farther and farther away—heaven only knew where; and, though he was aware that due to the accident, Mr. Conne could not but think him blameless, he felt that in a measure he had failed. He hadn’t any business, he told himself, to strike his head and fall unconscious—it was his job to stay conscious!
