FRIENDLY ADVICE

It seemed to Abner that all his friends had forsaken him. He paced up and down the room outside his cell most of the evening. The chauffeur was asleep, and his deep breathing was the only sound which broke the intense stillness which prevailed. The nap he had taken that afternoon drove all sleep from Abner's eyes. In fact, he could not have slept, anyway, as the story the chauffeur had told gave him food for much thought. So Rackshaw was at the bottom of it all, he mused. He had surmised as much, but he had no means of proving it until he had heard it from the lips of the wild-eyed youth. Perhaps the lawyer was responsible, too, for the article in The Live Wire. How could the editor have obtained the information unless someone had communicated with him? The police, of course, could have done so, but they would not have twisted the story beyond all semblance of reality. He felt that Joe Preston was guilty, and deserved all that he had received. But was Rackshaw in league with him?

He was lost in such thoughts when he heard the jailor's approaching footsteps. The man was coming, no doubt, to lock him in his cell for the night. The thought of being confined in that narrow stuffy place for long hours angered him, so when he heard the key rattle in the lock he was in a most dangerous frame of mind. Accustomed as he was from childhood to unbounded freedom, and an abundance of fresh air, this close confinement in such poorly-ventilated quarters was most galling. He had started to walk back to the other end of the room as the key turned in the lock. He could hardly trust himself then, and he needed a few seconds to calm his feelings.

As the door swung open the jailor called to him, and demanded why he was running away. Fiercely Abner wheeled around, but the words of wrath which were glowing hot on his tongue suddenly cooled when he beheld Zeb Burns standing before him. For an instant he stood as if he had seen an apparition, staring hard at his neighbor. Zeb saw the look of astonishment, and the faint semblance of a smile lurked about the corners of his mouth.

"What's the matter, Abner?" he asked. "Ye look scared."

"So I am."

"What about?"

"You."

"Me! Why are you scared about me?"

"What have ye been doin', Zeb?"

"Doin'! What de ye mean?"

"But why are ye here? Have they got you, too?"

"Ho, ho, I see," and Burns laughed outright. "Ye think that because you're in the Klink everybody else is headin' the same way. But I guess there are a few sensible people left yit in the world, which is a mighty lucky thing."

"An' they're not goin' to lock you up too?" Abner asked in surprise. "Ye haven't been beatin' anybody up, eh?"

"Certainly not. What's the matter with ye, anyway, Abner? I'm here to take you out of this hole, so git a hustle on an' come with me at once. There now, never mind talkin'," he added. "We've got lots of time fer that later. I want to git away."

Like a child Abner followed Zeb out of the jail, and not until they had reached the street did he open his lips. Then he stopped, looked around, and drew in a long, deep breath of fresh air.

"My, that feels good!" he exclaimed. "The Lord never meant a man to be shut up in a place like that."

"I know he didn't," Zeb replied. "Neither did He intend that a man in his common sense should act the fool."

"De ye think I have?" Abner demanded.

"It looks very much like it. But, let's hurry up. I guess the judge will settle whether you are a fool or a lunatic, so it's no use fer us to spend our time arguin' about it."

"Where are ye goin'?" Abner asked.

"Home, of course. Where else would we go?"

"Did ye walk to town, Zeb?"

"Sure; I've no other means of conveyance, have I?"

"An' ye're goin' to walk home?"

"Guess so from present appearance."

"But Jerry's here," Abner explained. "Sam must know where he is."

"That's good. We'll hustle there at once an' git the old nag."

They moved rapidly along the street leading to the railway station. This route led them by Rackshaw's office, and as they were about to pass they glanced in at the open door. The sight which met their eyes filled them with astonishment, causing them to stop and look into the room. To Zeb the scene of chaos was puzzling, but Abner surmised the cause in an instant. His face brightened, and his mouth expanded into a grin when he saw Whittles upon the floor and the lawyer standing before the box.

"Evenin', gentlemen," he accosted, "an' may the Lord fergive me fer miscallin' yez. Havin' a pink tea, eh?"

Rackshaw stood staring at Abner as if he could not believe his eyes.

"Good Lord!" he ejaculated. "Are you that devil, Andrews, or his ghost? I thought you were in jail."

"H'm," Abner sniffed. "I'm St. Peter now. This is me angel in the shape of Zeb Burns, who came to-night an' brought me out of prison. Look's to me as if you an' Hen have been holdin' a prayer meetin'. Guess ye'r prayers must have been answered, fer here I be."

"You're no saint," Rackshaw roared. "You're Beelzebub, the prince of devils; that's who you are. What did you mean by sending me those rats?"

"Rats!" and again Abner grinned. "Oh, I see," and his eyes surveyed the room. "Country rats, eh?"

"Indeed, they were," was the emphatic reply. "And look what they've done to my office. You'll have a nice sum to pay for all this damage."

"Me! Me pay?"

"Yes, you I mean!" the lawyer yelled, now fairly beside himself. "You are the cause of all this, an' I'll skin you alive, see if I don't, you miserable devil."

The grin vanished from Abner's face, his form suddenly straightened, and his eyes blazed. Walking slowly across the room, he stood before the angry lawyer.

"Jist say them words agin," he warned, in that drawling tone which betokened danger. "If ye're thinkin' of skinnin' me alive, as no doubt ye'll try to do, I might as well have my full satisfaction now. I'm in deep water as it is over Joe Preston, an' I feel jist in the mood to have another scalp scored to my credit. Another skunk like you won't make much difference, so jist say them words agin, will ye?"

Rackshaw was in a trap and knew it. His body shook and his eyes blazed fire. But he was an arrant coward, and the huge form bulked very large before him just then. He knew that Abner would not hesitate to deal with him as he had with Joe Preston, and he did not relish the thought of going to the hospital for repairs. As the two men thus faced each other, Zeb approached and laid a firm hand upon Abner's arm.

"Come along out of this," he commanded. "You're in enough trouble now. Don't be a fool. I'm losin' faith in this ancestor business of yours. St. Peter never acted like you're actin' to-night."

For an instant only Abner hesitated. He did long to give the lawyer something that was coming to him. But he knew that Zeb was right, and he followed him to the door. He couldn't refrain, however, from giving a parting shot ere he left.

"Don't fergit, Rackshaw," he reminded, "that country rats are not to be fooled with, no matter whether they walk on four legs or two. Keep ye'r city rats where they belong, and let them mind their own bizn'ess, an' ye'll have no tr............