"It was from the St. Louis prison that I escaped," explained Martin
Skidway a little later. "I never got inside the State institution a
second time. I've had a sweet time of it thus far."
"Tell me how you made your escape," said Dyke Darrel, who sat with his
back against a tree, and regarded the young counterfeiter in wonder.
"There isn't much to tell," returned Skidway. "I had no assistance,
but it seems that a pair of burglars had broken out by filing off the
grating to one of the corridor windows, and the opening had not been
repaired when I was taken to the jail. I was left in the corridor a
minute while the jailor was attending some other prisoners, and that
minute gave me the opportunity. I mounted a chair, climbed through the
window, and made my escape by the light of the moon. Of course there
was a big search, but I remained hidden in an old cellar under a
deserted house in a grove within the city limits, for several days,
and finally made good my escape from the State."
"And now?"
"I am going to put the ocean between me and the beaks of American
law."
Dyke Darrel regarded the speaker with mingled emotions. He saw in this
daring young fellow much talent, that had it been rightly directed,
might have made an honorable place in the world for Martin Skidway.
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