CHAPTER X

On the far side of the highroad Westways slumbered. Only in the rector's
small house were lights burning. The town was in absolute darkness.
Westways went to bed early. A pleased sense of the responsibility of his
errand went with John as he came near to where Josiah's humble two-storey
house stood back from the street line, marked by the well-known striped
pole of the barber, of which Josiah was professionally proud. John paused
in front of the door. He knew that he must awaken no one but Josiah.
After a moment's thought he went along the side of the house to the small
garden behind it where Josiah grew the melons no one else could grow, and
which he delighted to take to Miss Leila or Mrs. Penhallow. In the novel
the heroes threw pebbles at the window to call up fair damsels. John
grinned; he might break a pane, but the noise--He was needlessly
cautious. Josiah had built a trellis against the back of the house for
grapevines which had not prospered. John began to climb up it with care
and easily got within reach of the second-storey window. He tapped
sharply on the glass, but getting no reply hesitated a moment. He could
hear from within the sonorous assurance of deep slumber. Somehow he must
waken him. He lifted the sash and called over and over in a low voice,
"Josiah!" The snoring ceased, but not the sleep. The lad was resolute and
still fearful of making a noise. He climbed with care into the dark room
upsetting a little table. Instantly Josiah bounded out of bed and caught
him in his strong grip, as John gasped, "Josiah!"

"My God!" cried the black in alarm, "anything wrong at the house?"

"No, sit down--I've got to tell you something. Your old master, Woodburn,
is coming to catch you--he will be here soon--I know he won't be here for
a day or two--"

"Is that so, Master John? It's awful--I've got to run. I always knowed
sometime I'd have to run." He sat down on the bed; he was appalled. "God
help me!--where can I go? I've got two hundred dollars and seventy-five
cents saved up in the county bank, and I've not got fifty cents in the
house. I can't get the money out--I'd be afraid to go there Monday. Oh,
Lord!"

He began to dress in wild haste. John tried in vain to assure him that he
would be safe on Sunday and Monday, or even later, but was in fact not
sure, and the man was wailing like a child in distress, thinking over his
easy, upright life and his little treasure, which seemed to him lo