Part 14 (1/2)
”No, yer don't,” said the man. ”You stay whar yer are. Yer ain't goin'
ter double-cross _me_.”
”I don't know what you mean by that,” said Pee-wee.
The convict did not offer him any explanation, only stood guarding the door with a threatening aspect, which very much disconcerted Pee-wee. He was a scout and he was brave, and not panicky in peril or emergency, but the striped clothing and cropped head and stupid leer of the man before him made him seem something less than human. His terror was more that of an animal than of a man and his apparent inability to express himself save by the repet.i.tion of that one sentence frightened the boy.
Apparently the creature was all instinct and no brains.
”Yer gotta stay here,” he repeated. ”Yer ain't goin' ter double-cross _me_, pal.”
Then it began to dawn on Pee-wee what he meant.
”I guess I know about you,” he said, ”because I heard about your--getting away. But, anyway, if you let me go away I won't tell anyone I saw you. I don't want to camp here now. I'll promise not to go and tell people, if that's what you're afraid of.”
”Wot's in that bag?” asked the man.
”My camping things.”
”Got any grub?”
”I've got two biscuits and some chocolate.”
”Gimme it,” said the man, coming closer.
He s.n.a.t.c.hed the food as fast as it was taken out of the bag, and Pee-wee surmised that he had not eaten since his escape from prison for he devoured it ravenously like a famished beast.
”Got any more?” he asked, glaring into the boy's face menacingly.
”No, I'm sorry I haven't. I escaped, too, as you might say, from my friends--from the fellers I was with. And I only brought a little with me.”
After a few minutes (doubtless from the stimulating effects of the food), the convict's fear seemed to subside somewhat and he spoke a little more freely. But Pee-wee found it very unpleasant being shut in with him there in the darkness, for, of course, the flashlight could not be kept burning all the time.
”I wouldn't do yer no hurt,” he a.s.sured Pee-wee. ”I t'ought mebbe yer wuz a _de_-coy. Yer ain't, are ye?” he asked suspiciously.
”No, I'm not,” said Pee-wee, ”I'm just what I told you----”
”I ain't goin' ter leave ye go free, so ye might's well shut up. I seen pals double-cross _me_--them ez I trusted, too. Yer square, I guess--only innercent.”
”I'd keep my word even with--I'd keep my word with you,” said Pee-wee, ”just the same as with anyone. Besides, I don't see what's the use of keeping me here. You'll have to let me go some time, you can't keep me here forever, and you can't stay here forever, yourself.”
”If ye stan' right 'n' show ye're game,” said the convict, ”thar won't no hurt come to ye. This here car's way-billed fer Buff'lo, 'n' I'm waitin' ter be took up now. It's a grain car. Yer ain't goin' ter peach wot I tell ye, now? I wuz put wise to it afore I come out by a railroad bloke. I had it straight these here cars would be picked up fer Buff'lo the nex' day after I done my trick. But they ain't took 'em up yet, an'
I'm close ter starvin' here.”
Pee-wee could not help but feel a certain sympathy with this man, wretch though he was, who on the information of some accomplice outside the prison, had made his escape expecting to be carried safely away the next day and had been crouching, half-starved, in this freight car ever since, waiting.
”What will you do if they don't take up the car for a week?” he asked.
”They might look inside of it, too; or they might change their minds about taking it.”
He was anxious for himself for he contemplated with terror his threatened imprisonment, but he could not help being concerned also for this miserable creature and he wondered what would happen if they both remained in the car for several days more, with nothing to eat. Then, surely, the man would be compelled to put a little faith in him and let him go out in search of food. He wondered what he should do in that case--what he ought to do; but that, he realized, was borrowing trouble.