CHAPTER XV.
THE ARREST.
Josiah’s bewilderment was soon turned to alarm.
Although never having been in the city before, he understood thoroughly well that he was under arrest; and the idea of being taken to jail was to him something so terrible, that he trembled as if with an ague fit.
“Why is it you little rascals can’t get along without fighting?” the officer asked, shaking the boy from Berry’s Corner, as if to render his words more emphatic.
“I didn’t mean to fight; leastways it didn’t seem as though I was doin’ it, till all the crowd got together,” Josiah replied in a tremulous tone.
“Oh, you didn’t, eh? I s’pose you wanter make out that somebody wound you up, and you couldn’t help yourself? I’ve had my eye on you, young feller, for a good many weeks, and don’t believe you’ll trouble me any more.”
“It couldn’t have been so long as that,” Josiah replied almost boldly, now that his presence of mind was returning. “I didn’t get inter the city till last Monday, so I reckon you must have made a mistake. Besides, I’m goin’ home to-morrow.”
“I hardly believe you will. If you don’t get a chance in the Reformatory this time, it’ll be odd. You can’t play off that old dodge ’bout not livin’ in the city, with me; I’ve known you too long.”
“But it’s the truth, all the same;” and fancying he was mistaken for some other boy, Josiah’s alarm increased once more.
The word “reformatory” had an ugly sound to him; and instantly it had been uttered there came into his mind a picture of a horrible dungeon which he, loaded with chains, would occupy for an indefinite time.
Even had he been disposed to say anything more, there was no opportunity for him to do so.
The man pulled him roughly along by the coat collar in such a manner as to cause him considerable discomfort and no little pain, and he felt that it would be many weeks, perhaps years, before he again saw Berry’s Corner.
The officer and his prisoner had hardly got a dozen yards from the battle-field when Josiah’s friends came in sight, taking good care, however, to remain at a respectful distance from the policeman, who made several attempts as if to capture them.
“Don’t be afraid, we’ll see you out of the scrape,” Josiah heard Bob cry; and from that time until they reached the station-house, he was followed by similar injunctions from different members of the party, each of whom seemed to consider the words necessary, in order that the prisoner might not lose courage.
Nothing short of absolute liberty could have revived Master Shindle’s spirits while he was in the embrace of the strong arm of the law.
Although both Tom and Bob assured him they would “see him through all right,” he had a clear idea that their influence must be very slight in the premises.
At the entrance to the station-house, Bob motioned for his friends to halt as the prisoner and his captor disappeared behind the heavy door, and then said in a low but earnest tone:—
“See here, fellers, it won’t do to let Josiah stay there, even if all of us has to go down to the Island for a month. His father would be pretty nigh crazy if he knew his son was arrested, an’ we’ve got to get him out somehow.”
“How you goin’ to do it?” Tom asked anxiously.
“S’posen we wait till that cop comes out, an’ then all hands sneak in and tell the officer in charge jest how it happened? If we agree to take Josiah’s place, he oughter let him go.”
“What do you wait till the policeman leaves for? Why wouldn’t it be better to do the talkin’ now?”
“’Cause that feller’s down on the boys what hang ’round the market, an’ jest as like’s not he’d take us all in.”
It was not necessary they should wait very long for the officer. He had made the charge, and then, his responsibility having ceased, was returning to his beat as soon as possible.
The boys were careful not to impede his progress, and when he emerged from the station-house they were hidden from view; but three minutes later, when the sound of his retreating footsteps told that he had turned the corner, all re-appeared once more, ready to rescue their unfortunate companion, if it could be done with no other weapons than their tongues.
Master Foss did not attempt to longer act the part of leader.
The situation was so grave that he understood he was not competent to deal with it in a proper manner, and to Bob was given the management of the entire affair.
Master Green entered the station-house, his friends following close behind, with a more subdued air than he had worn when explaining what might be done. The very atmosphere of the place seemed to oppress him, and it was an exceedingly humble boy who presented himself to the sergeant at the desk, trying to render his voice steady as he said hesitatingly:—
“Look here, Mister, that cop just brought in a feller from the country what wasn’t doin’ any harm, an’ we’ve come to see if we can’t get him out.”
“Oh, wasn’t doin’ any harm, eh? The officer brought him here just because of that?”
“That’s the truth of it,” Bob replied firmly. “Us fellers got into a row with Sim Jones’ crowd ’cause they stole our grub, an’ Josiah was along, so he pitched in, of course. It wasn’t his fight; but he was helpin’ his friends, do you see?”
“Yes, I see. He was fighting, and so were you, according to your story.”
“That’s it, that’s jest it,” Bob said eagerly; and now Tom came forward by his partner’s side, as if thinking it might strengthen the cause. “We’re the ones what made all the trouble, an’ you oughter ’rest us instead of him. Why, look here, Mister, that feller’s father’s comin’ here to-morrow mornin’ to take him home, an’ what kind of a scrape will the old man be in when he finds his boy locked up in jail?”
“His boy should avoid making trouble for his father, by not fighting.”
“I’ve jest told you it didn’t happen that way. We started the row, an’ I s’pose he couldn’t help hisself, so he got into the fuss. You see, he didn’t seem to know what was meant when we hollered ‘cops!’; but stood still like a chump till the officer had him by the back of the neck. If he’d belonged in the city, that big feller never’d caught him; but he was green, an’ now we want you to let him go.”
It was evident the sergeant was interested; but whether because of Josiah’s unfortunate position, or the earnestness of the boy before him, it would have been difficult to say.
At all events, instead of dismissing the young pleader, as probably would have been done under other circumstances, he condescended to argue with him.
“Do you think when an arrest has been made that we can let the prisoner go, or keep him here, just as we please?”
“What’s to hinder?”
“The station-house is only intended for the reception of prisoners during the night, until they can be taken to court; and when a person is committed, it is necessary for us to show him up in the morning, or get ourselves into trouble.”
“But what’s the sense of keepin’ Josiah when he oughter go home?”
“Because we must have a prisoner to answer to his name.”
“Then we can fix that easy enough,” and Bob looked decidedly relieved. “You let him go, an’ I’ll go back in his place. When I come inter court termorrer mornin’, it’ll take more’n one cop to find out my name ain’t Josiah Shindle.”
“In other words, you want me to assist in the escape of a prisoner?”
“No, I don’t. Jest make a swap, that’s all. What’s the sense of sendin’ a boy like him down to the Island? He’s so green he couldn’t do anything; but they’d get a pile of work outer me, an’ it would be better all ’round. Besides, if one ain’t enough, the whole of us’ll go in, won’t we, fellers?”
At this appeal, the entire party ranged themselves in front of the sergeant.
Then each in turn announced his willingness to submit to imprisonment for any indefinite period, provided the boy from Berry’s Corner was allowed to go free.
The sergeant looked at them scrutinizingly, and called for the turnkey, saying as that functionary appeared:—
“You can lock these boys up, and let the youngster you just carried down-stairs go. They want to make a swap. It seems to be a good trade when we’re getting ten for one.”
The turnkey did not appear to understand the matter, and while he stood in the door-way hesitatingly, Josiah’s substitutes marched boldly toward him.
Before they reached the door, however, the sergeant called them back, and asked his subordinate:—
“Did you lock that boy up who was brought in a few moments ago?”
“Not yet, sir. Your orders were to let him run loose.”
“Very well. Bring him here. I didn’t enter his name on the books, so I don’t fancy there’ll be any trouble in making the exchange for which these young gentlemen are so anxious.”
A few moments later Josiah, looking very pale and thoroughly frightened, was ushered into the room.
A cry of surprise and joy burst from his lips as he saw his friends.
“You can take him away with you,” the sergeant said, “and I don’t fancy it will be necessary for any of the party to stay in his place; but remember this: If either of you are brought here within the next six months on a charge of fighting, I shall do all I can to have it go hard with the offender. I want you to promise to keep away from the Vesey Street Market, unless it should be necessary to visit that place on business.”
It can readily be understood how gladly Josiah’s friends promised to do as the officer wished, and in the shortest possible time afterward they took their departure, each mentally congratulating himself that he was not to spend the night in a cell in the station-house.
“Now, that’s what I call doin’ the thing in great shape,” Bill Foss said when they were on the sidewalk once more. “It looked one time as if Josiah was goin’ to see more of New York than he wanted.”
“I guess it would jest about have killed father if he’d found me in jail when he came,” the boy from the country said half to himself; “an’ I’m glad he’ll be here to-morrow mornin’, cause I’ve got all the city I need.”
“Now, don’t let a little thing like that trouble you,” Bob said soothingly. “It doesn’t ’mount to anything.”
“But I reckon it would if it hadn’t been for you,” Bill Foss replied emphatically.
“I didn’t cut much of a figger in it, an’ if I did, it wasn’t any more’n Josiah would ’a done for me; so what’s the use of makin’ all this talk?”
Then Bob changed the conversation by asking if any of the party had noticed in which direction Sim and his friends fled; and in a few moments all, with the exception of Josiah, were deeply engaged discussing the probability of their being able, at some future time, to mete out the proper amount of punishment to those who attempted to destroy the pleasure of the afternoon.
Josiah took no part in the conversation because of his mental troubles. Although he had escaped from a prison cell so readily, he was fully alive to the fact of what his fate might have been but for his friends; and it seemed now as if he was in danger of being re-arrested every moment he remained in the city, until the arrival of his father.
It is more than probable he would have returned home without waiting for the morning, had such a thing been possible; but since that could not be, the only place of refuge was Baker’s Court, which point he wished to gain at the earliest convenient hour.
So impatient was he that it seemed a long while before his friends were ready to separate for the night; and once alone with Tom and Bob, he urged them to make all speed toward the court.
“Why, it looks like as if you was still ’fraid of bein’ ’rested,” Tom said laughingly.
“Well, I am,” was the candid reply. “You see, I never thought anything like that could happen, an’ now I’ve had such good proof, it don’t seem safe to stay out on the street. Besides, I’m tired, an’ the sooner we go back the sooner we’ll get to bed.”
Bob and Tom did not delay after understanding how their friend felt; and, half an hour later, the three were in the tiny chamber at Baker’s Court, Josiah congratulating himself over and over again upon the fact that this was the last night he would be obliged to remain in the city.