seemed to be in his stocking feet; but where his shoes
were I couldn't imagine.

We moved along slowly, but steadily, my guide seeming to know the way,
and presently he opened a door with only a slight creak, and then
whispered in my ear:

"We are in the lodge. Don't breathe."

Again we moved on and again stopped, and from one or two sharp clicks I
judged him to be trying to open another door.

Suddenly he drew me forward. I felt a rush of cold air, and the next
instant I was out of jail.

"Wait!" said my companion.

And he closed the wicket gate, and locked it noiselessly.

"If they find the gate open, they'll smell a rat," he remarked. "Now
then, my boy, come on."

CHAPTER XIV.

I BECOME A WANDERER AND FALL INTO LUCK.

I kept closely by his side, and for half an hour we moved along, keeping
in the shadow of the houses, until we reached the outskirts of the town.

"Now then," said my companion, speaking for the first time, "put on your
shoes."

I did so, and very glad I was to do it. At the same time he reached down
and drew off his stockings, and then I saw they had been drawn on over
his boots.

Then he took my hand, and we walked along steadily and swiftly for an
hour, until the lights of Lancaster had faded in the distance, and not
until then did my companion fall into a walk and conversation.

"What did you say you were in for?" he asked.

"For nothing," I answered, promptly.

This seemed to amuse him greatly.

"Of course not," said he, after an outburst of laughter. "I never saw a
prisoner in my life who wasn't innocent!"

I attempted to explain, but he wouldn't listen.

"No matter--it's not my business. It was forgery with me--ten years at
the least; and I couldn't stand that, you know."

"Certainly not," said I, not knowing what else to say.

Then, by way of turning the conversation, I inquired how he came to be
provided with tools to effect his escape.

He looked at me suspiciously for a moment, as if he suspected me of some
hidden motive in asking the question, and then, apparently satisfied
with the scrutiny, he informed me that his friends had sent him pies
every day for two weeks past.

"Pies?" I exclaimed, in open-mouthed wonder.

"Yes, pies," he said, gravely. "Don't you see? Nothing but the crusts.
Inside were keys, saws and a jimmy."

"A _jimmy_?"

"Yes--here it is. That came in four pies."

He took from his coat-pocket four pieces of steel, and in an instant
fitt