His troubles and his trials had not wholly dulled youth’s sense of the ludicrous in Vaniman.  He sat down that evening to the meal that had been prepared by Guard Wagg, late of the state prison, for three fugitive convicts, also late of that institution.  The chimney of the kerosene lamp was smoky and the light was dim, therefore Vaniman’s grin was hidden from his companions.  Undoubtedly it would have produced no especial wonderment in them if they had noted his cheerful visage.  They were decidedly cheerful, themselves.  Mr. Wagg was no longer exhibiting the official side of his nature; he was receiving compliments on his biscuits.  The three who had aligned themselves against Vaniman seemed to be getting along in a very friendly fashion, being bound by a common interest.

From biscuits in hand the conversation passed to the prison fare in retrospect.  Wagg admitted that the fare was a disgrace to the state.  From that point it was easy to go on and agree with the short man and the tall man that the prison was mismanaged generally and that a man was lucky in being able to get away from such a place—­no matter whether he was a guard or a prisoner.  The incongruous friendliness increased Vaniman’s amusement.

He looked at the two knaves who had recently enlightened their victim in such a matter-of-fact manner.  He admitted that the comedy overbalanced the tragedy, in view of the fact that the job had resolved itself into petty sneak-thievery.  Taking into consideration the trick money they had found, there was considerable farce in the affair.  However, Vaniman, looking ahead to the threatening to-morrow, perceived tragedy looming again.

Victim, criminals, guard of the criminals, they were breaking bread in a temporary comradeship of a bizarre nature—­a money quest.  But that money interest which bound them of an evening would be a disastrous problem on the morrow, if one man attempted to stand out against three.

The one man made up his mind that there was a risky resource for him—­to flee and take his chances alone in the woods; he had decided to put his own personal interpretation on the promise, “To-morrow!”

Right after supper he turned into his bunk, in order to simulate slumber and avoid the questions that he could not answer.

The two new arrivals had had much to say about their weariness.  He expected that they would promptly eliminate themselves as obstacles to flight.  Mr. Wagg, at any rate, had shown a confiding disposition all along.

But the tall man and the short man conferred sotto voce and let it be known that they had suspended payment of confidence currency for the time being.