“I don’t think it would be any use. Stoliker’s a stubborn animal. He has suffered too much at my hands to be in a forgiving mood. We’ll bring him a chair anyhow, and see the effect of kindness on him.”
When the chair was placed at Stoliker’s disposal, he sat down upon it, still hugging the post with an enforced fervency that, in spite of the solemnity of the occasion, nearly made Kitty laugh, and lit up her eyes with the mischievousness that had always delighted Yates.
“How long am I to be kept here?” asked the constable.
“Oh, not long,” answered Yates cheerily; “not a moment longer than is necessary. I’ll telegraph when I’m safe in New York State; so you won’t be here more than a day or two.”
This assurance did not appear to bring much comfort to Stoliker.
“Look here,” he said; “I guess I know as well as the next man when I’m beaten. I have been thinking all this over. I am under the sheriff’s orders, and not under the orders of that officer. I don’t believe you’ve done anything, anyhow, or you wouldn’t have acted quite the way you did. If the sheriff had sent me, it would have been different. As it is, if you unlock those cuffs, I’ll give you my word I’ll do nothing more unless I’m ordered to. Like as not they’ve forgotten all about you by this time; and there’s nothing on record, anyhow.”
“Do you mean it? Will you act square?”
“Certainly I’ll act square. I don’t suppose you doubt that. I didn’t ask any favors before, and I did what I could to hold you.”
“Enough said,” cried Yates. “I’ll risk it.”
Stoliker stretched his arms wearily above his head when he was released.