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Show "But a hundred dollars? I've never seen so much money at one time in my whole life." j "Don't worry," Watson j said. "There's plenty more where i that came from. I can make one in a couple of hours." "It's counterfeit?" j "Don't be so surprised. Why do ! you suppose I was selected to share 1 this suite with you?" "But it looks real," Port said. I "You can flatter me all you want, I but I'm still going to give it to Vio-S Vio-S let." "Don't want to get the girl in trouble." j "The people that makes them go to jail, if they get caught," Watson explained. "Never the people that takes them. Sometimes they have to give back the stuff they buy with the phony bills, but they never go to jail, only the fellow that makes them. I'm living proof of that." Port lowered the basket. "Never had a dollar before," Violet said when she removed the bill from the basket. "It's a hundred dollars," Port explained. "Don't let the missus ! get it from you." Violet shoved the bill in her apron and turned to j leave. 1 "Don't forget the knife," Port called after her. The next morning as the guard entered the cell with the usual breakfast of cold corn dodgers and water, he noticed that the shackles were no longer on Port's feet. He j started to say something, but it was too late. Port kicked the guard's feet put from under him, pouncing j I on top as the man went down. When the guard started to resist he found ii.j a knife at his throat. He decided to : j hold still. Port tied the man's hands iij behind his back, and shoved a cold :j corn dodger in his mouth to stop ; j him, at least temporarily, from j shouting. ' Port and Watson charged through j: the open door. Port slammed it i shut, and shoved the bolt home by : j turning the key in the lock. He j J removed the key and tossed it out j the hallway window. As they raced down the stairs they suddenly found their way blocked by the jailer's overweight wife. She was as sur-:! sur-:! prised as they were and a lot more ! frightened. j Port shoved his hand over her i mouth as she opened it to scream. "Your husband is all right," Port explained. "I locked him in the cell and tossed the key out the little j window by the door. You don't need ! to scream. Find the key and let i him out." The woman expressed her willingness will-ingness to do as Port said by nodding nod-ding her puffy face up and down. Port let go of her. He and Watson squeezed past, resuming their race towards the back door. The woman began screaming. scream-ing. Neither Port nor Watson had ever seen beyond the back door of the jail. If they had, their plan of escape would have been different. differ-ent. They suddenly found them selves in a back yard enclosed on three sides by a 12-foot-high board fence with a locked gate. With the fat lady screaming bloody murder there was no turning turn-ing back. Port jumped upon a barrel bar-rel which enabled him to reach the top of the fence. Using all his strength he pulled himself up and over, urging Watson to follow. Port dropped to the ground on the outside and was racing for the woods when he realized that Watson Wat-son had not yet reached the top of the fence. Port hurried back, calling call-ing through the fence to Watson, urging the young man to hurry. "I can't pull myself up," Watson replied, sounding like he was nearly in tears. "Try again," Port urged. "I have, but I can't do it," was the desperate reply. Port looked towards the woods less than a hundred yards away. There was no time to lose. He could hear the woman's screams inside the jail. He could hear excited shouts in the street from people who realized something was wrong in jail. Should he leave, or help Watson over the. fence? He must decide quickly. Port scampered up a small tree which enabled him to get on top of the fence. Hanging on with his leg and one hand he reached down to take Watson by the hand. It took all the strength of both men to finally wrestle Watson to the top of the fence. Then they both tumbled to the ground outside the yard. Scrambling to their feet they began running to the woods. But it was too late. People were hurrying towards the jail from every direction to see what was the matter. Someone saw Port and Watson, and sounded the alarm. Reynolds raced around the corner of the jail and up the alley towards his two prisoners. Watson could not keep up with Port and soon stopped. Port realized real-ized he had grown soft from the confinement. His lungs were on fire. His legs were turning to rubber. His old strength was not there. He could hear Reynolds rapidly gaining, and could do nothing noth-ing to go faster. When Port felt Reynolds' hand on his shoulder, he collapsed in the dirt. Fighting for air, he didn't have the strength to resist the firm hand. Reynolds pulled Port to his feet and shoved him towards the jail. Somehow Port managed to keep his feet under him. The sheriff sher-iff was rough and impatient, pushing push-ing Port ahead whenever he thought the prisoner was going too slow. They marched past Watson, who was on the ground still catching catch-ing his breath. When they reached the front of the jail, a sizeable- crowd had gathered. Some had already began be-gan a chant to lynch the Destroying Angel. The angry sheriff dragged Port through the crowd, giving a hard shove to anyone who got in his way. (To be continued) l |