Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal?  He felt that Mahaffy could fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of genuine concern when he thought of the child.  In spite of himself, his thoughts returned to him again and again.  But surely some one would shelter and care for him!

“Yes—­and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the bargain—­”

Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the woods, a dry branch snapped loudly.  A little pause succeeded in which the judge’s heart stood still.  Next a stealthy step sounded in the clearing.  The judge had an agonized vision of regulators and lynchers.  The beat of his pulse quickened.  He knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the frontier.  The sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers—­very quietly he stood erect and picked up the stool.

“Heaven helping me, I’ll brain a citizen or two before it comes to that!” he told himself.

The cautious steps continued to approach.  Some one paused below the closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards sharply.  A whisper stole into the jail.

“Are you awake, Price?” It was Mahaffy who spoke.

“God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!” cried the judge unsteadily.

“I’ve got the boy—­he’s with me,” said Mahaffy.

“God bless you both!” repeated the judge brokenly.  “Take care of him, Solomon.  I feel better now, knowing he’s in good hands.”

“Please, Judge—­” it was Hannibal

“Yes, dear lad?”

“I’m mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad—­but you don’t need ever to pay it back!”

Mahaffy gave way to mirth.

“Never mind!” said the judge indulgently.  “It performed all the essential functions of a perfectly legal currency.  Just suppose we had discovered it was counterfeit before I took it to the tavern—­that would have been a hardship!”

“It were Captain Murrell gave it to me,” explained Hannibal.

“I consecrate myself to his destruction!  Judge Slocum Price can not be humiliated with impunity!”

“I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you’d waddled out of danger!” Mahaffy spoke, gruffly.

“How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon—­for I suppose you are here to break jail for me,” said the judge.

Mahaffy inspected the building.  He found that the door was secured by two ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy padlocks, but the solid wooden shutter which closed the square hole in the gable that served as a window was fastened by a hasp and peg.  He withdrew the peg, opened the shutter, and the judge’s face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the aperture.

“The blessed sky and air!” he murmured, breathing deep.  “A week of this would have broken my spirit!”

“If you can, Price, you’d better come feet first,” suggested Mahaffy.

“Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon—­it’s heads or I lose!” said the judge.