The newcomer was white, excited--yes,
jubilant. In his hand he carried a newspaper, the heavy black
headlines standing out in bold relief.
"He's got a reprieve!" he was shouting eagerly. "Look 'ere! See wot it
says."
Fascinated, they slunk back into the dark passage, to listen in
stupefaction while the joyous Blacky repeated the astounding news from
the prison.
"Mr. Jenison and his wife done it," cried Blacky, his eyes gleaming.
"It says so here. They went to the gov'nor this morning and put it up
to him in a way that made him grant a reprieve for thirty days, so's
Mr. Jenison can get the real facts before him. That means a pardon
sure, kids. Say, Jenison's all right! He's the kind of a friend to
have, he is. He never quit on Dick. Say, where's Ernie? We'd better
put him wise."
"It won't make any difference to Ernie now," said one of the rogues,
wiping his wet brow with his hand.
Blacky fell away with a great look of dread in his eyes. He
understood.
"We'd better duck out o' this," he muttered vaguely. "It says here
that the cops are going to question Ernie. They're out huntin' for him
by this time, kids.
Pages:
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603