Part 1 (2/2)

”Well, I got the tumbles all right!” Pippin shook his head. ”Here was the Lord helpin' me, helpin' me good, and you too, Elder, and Warden, and Pete: and yet with all that--gorry to 'Liza!--with all that, if the devil didn't get in his licks too, call me pudd'n head! He'd wait till I was dog-tired, mebbe, or some one had spoke ugly to me. 'Huh!' he'd say, 'you're no good; what makes you think you are? You're spoilin' a first-rate crook,' he'd say, 'and you'll never make anything else, 'cause that's where your gifts lie,' he'd say. 'n.o.body'll ever trust you, either!' he'd say. 'Sweat all you like, and pray all you're a mind to, and sing your insides out,' he'd say; ''twon't make any difference.

A crook you are, and a crook folks'll think you!' he'd say.”

”But you knew better!”

”Course I knew better; but there's times when knowin' don't seem to help; and them times he'd get me down, Satan would, and kneel on my chist, and lam into me--Green gra.s.s! he _would_ lam in!”

Pippin was silent a moment; the chaplain watched him, silent too.

”Come one day,” Pippin went on, ”he got me bad. I tried singin', but that wouldn't do; I tried prayin', and all I could make out was the Lord was real sorry for me, but I'd got to play this hand alone. When you come round I tried to speak up and answer pleasant and cheerful, but I guess I made a poor fist of it. I see you look me over; then you went off kind o' thinkin', whistlin' that tune--what is it, that tune you give us when you're thinkin' somethin' up, Elder?”

The chaplain laughed outright.

”'Am I a Soldier of the Cross?'” he said. ”You know too much, Pippin.”

”I know this much!” cried Pippin. ”I know you sent for me half an hour later, and I come. Here were you, and there was I, and on the table was a box full of money, and you were counting it over; might have been a hundred dollars.”

”Just!” said Mr. Hadley. ”My quarter's salary!”

”Looked to be! Well, sir, I don't need to tell you. You began to ask me about my cell, and was I careful about this, that or the other; all of a sudden you pulls up and looks at your watch. 'h.e.l.lo!' you says. 'Ten o'clock! I've got to go and speak to the Warden about something. Just watch this money till I come back, will you, Pippin?' And off you go full chisel, and leave me--”

Pippin's voice broke, and he brushed his hand across his eyes. The chaplain laid a quiet hand on his shoulder; his own eyes were dim for a moment.

”And you think Sandy is ready for that?” he said quietly.

”I do, sir!” Pippin straightened his shoulders and threw up his chin again. ”I know for myself that was the devil's last kick. I've never had no more trouble with him since that day; and I think Sandy's time has come to find there's somebody trusts him and looks to him to be a decent chap from now on. Then there's Tom Kidd--but I'm keepin' you, Elder! Mebbe you was goin' out, sir? Pleasant day like this--”

”I'm keeping you!” The kind hand still on his shoulder, Pippin was gently propelled toward the door. ”Time you were starting, Pippin, since you are determined to go in this way, without help or company. I'm coming down with you, and you can tell me about Tom as we go.”

Down the stone stairs, talking earnestly as he went, pausing now and then for the unlocking of an iron door which clanged ”good-by” as it shut behind him; through the narrow corridors whose brick walls shone with the rubbing of generations of shoulders; through the guard room, pausing here to shake the friendly hands of a dozen turnkeys, clerks, attendants, all wis.h.i.+ng him good luck, all bidding him not forget them for they would sure miss him; down the final stairs at last went Pippin, the chaplain still at his shoulder, through the door behind which he had left hope three years ago, to find her again on the other side--out into the air and sunlight, a free man.

Now came the last handclasp--long and firm, saying many things; the last clear glance of love and trust between blue eyes and brown; the last word.

”And remember, my son, that wherever you look for the grace of G.o.d, there you will be pretty sure to find it!”

”That's right, Elder!” said Pippin. ”Amen! I'll look for it, sure! And I'll never forget all you've done for me. So long, Elder!”

”Good-by, my son! Good-by, Pippin! The Lord be with you!”

The chaplain stood on the steps, watching the lithe, alert figure as it strode along the highway; coming to the corner, it turned, waved a salute and vanished.

The chaplain sighed; he was glad, heartily glad, that Pippin was ”out,”

but he would miss him sadly; everybody would miss him. He had been the suns.h.i.+ne of the place, these six months past. He looked up at the gray walls, the frowning windows, and gave a little s.h.i.+ver; sighed and smiled, squared his shoulders, and went back into the prison.

Pippin, too, as he waved his farewell at the corner, smiled and sighed and squared his shoulders, then he thrust out his jaw in a way the parson knew well.

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