“I suppose the Huswick boys have got it,” said Mr. Chatford. “The squire had a warrant out yesterday for Cub and Hank; that’s a fact, ain’t it, Sellick?”
“I’ll say this much,” replied the constable,—“arter Jack give us the slip, we did make a call on our neighbor Huswick, and found Cub and Hank had cut stick. I never told anybody I had a warrant. You may infer what you please.”
“Does Peternot know Jack has given himself up?”
“I see the hired man as we drove by; he said the squire was tending prayers. Good old man, the squire; has prayers in his family morning and evening. I told the man to tell him; so he knows by this time. He’ll be waiting to see his young friend. And now, if you’ll hand out that little trunk you told me you had ready for him yesterday, we’ll be moving on.”
Mrs. Chatford talked earnestly with her husband aside.
“I don’t know what to do or think!” said the deacon. “I’ll see the squire again. He _must_ hear to reason!” And he walked hurriedly away towards Peternot’s house.
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MRS. PIPKIN brought out the valise which had been packed the day before. Annie followed with an armful of books.
“These will be good companions to you, if the squire doesn’t relent,” she said, as she handed them up to Jack with an encouraging smile.
“I’ve no hope of his relenting. But I don’t feel as I did yesterday,” said Jack. He glanced at the backs of the books. “I think I shall have a pretty good time to read and study, there in jail! Don’t cry, dear little Kate! I’m all right. Take good care of Lion. Good by, all! O Mrs. Chatford! Miss Felton! I shall never forget how good you have been to me!”
“Remember and read your Testament! I put it in the valise,” said Mrs. Chatford.
“And keep a good heart! I’m sure it will all turn out well. Good by, Jack!” cried Annie, as Sellick drove away.
“Go back, Lion! back!” said the boy, hastily wiping his tears. “Say good by to Moses!”
Phineas, peeping from the barn, and witnessing these farewells, almost envied Jack, as he saw him ride off with the constable; for already that wretched youngster was beginning to feel there was a worse prison for the mind than a jail,—that of its own guilty thoughts.