by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JOHNNY WILL NOT BE A NICE BOY
The jailer reappeared later, and finding Johnny sitting on the edge ofthe cot with his tousled head between his two palms, scowling moodilyat his feet, advised him not unkindly to buck up.
Without moving, Johnny told him to get somewhere out of there.
"Your girl's father is here and wants to talk to you," the jailerinformed him, overlooking the snub.
"Tell him to go to hell," Johnny expanded his invitation. "If youbring him up here I'll kick him down-stairs. And that goes, too. Now,get out of here before I--"
"Aw, say, you ain't in any position to get flossy. Look where youare," the jailer reminded him good-naturedly as he closed the door.
He must have repeated Johnny's words verbatim, for Sudden did notinsist upon the interview, and no one else came near him. At noon thejailer brought him a note from Mary V, along with his lunch, but Johnnyhad no heart for either. He had just finished reading the front-pageaccount of his exploits, and his mood was blacker than ever.
No man likes to see his private affairs garbled and exaggerated anddished to the public with the sauce of a heartless reporter's wit. Theheadlines themselves struck his young dignity a deadly blow:
BIRDMAN FURNISHES NEW SENSATION!
Modern Lochinvar Lands in Jail!
Thunder Bird Carries Maiden Off.
Telephone Halts Flight in County Clerk's Office, Where Couple isArrested. Abductor Attacks Sheriff Viciously. Is Manacled in Presenceof Hysterical Young Heiress Who Faints as Her Lover is Overpowered.Irate Father Hurries to the Scene.
After keeping the country in a turmoil of excitement over hisdisappearance in an airplane, the Skyrider, young Jewel, flies boldlyto Rolling R ranch and abducts beautiful Mary V Selmer, only daughterof the rich rancher who led the search for the missing birdman.
Romance is not dead, though airplanes have taken the place of horseswhen young Lochinvar goes boldly out to steal himself a bride. Moderninventions cannot cool the hot blood of youth, as young Jewel has oncemore proven. This sensational young man, apparently not content withthe uproar of the country for the past three days, when he was believedto be lost on the desert with his airplane, attempts one adventure toomany. When he brazenly carried off his sweetheart in his airplane heforgot to first cut the telephone wire. That oversight cost him dear,for now he languishes in jail, while the young lady, who is under age,is being held by the sheriff--
It was sickening, because in a measure it was true, though he had neverthought of emulating Lochinvar or any one else. He had neither thoughtnor cared about the public and what it would think, and the blatant wayin which he had been made to entertain the country at large humiliatedhim beyond words.
He picked up the square, white envelope tightly sealed and addressed inMary V's straight, uncompromising chirography, turned it over,reconsidered opening it, and flipped it upon the cot.
"There was an answer expected," the jailer lingered to hint broadly."The young lady is waiting, and she seemed right anxious."
But Johnny merely walked to the barred window and stared across at theblank wall of another building fifteen feet away, and in a moment thejailer went away and left him alone, which was what Johnny wanted most.
After a while he opened Mary V's letter and read it, scowling andbiting his lips. Mary V, it would seem, had read all that the papershad to say, and was considerably upset by the facetious tone of most ofthe articles.
". . . and I think it's perfectly terrible, the way everybody staresand whispers and grins. What in the world made you act the way you didand get arrested. And those were reporters that you shoved out of theoffice, too, and that is why they wrote about us in such a horrid way.And I shall never be able to live it down. I shall be consideredhysterical and always fainting, which is not true and a perfect libelwhich they ought to be sent to jail for printing. I shall probablyhave that horrid Lochinvar piece recited at me the rest of my life,Johnny, and I should think you would be willing to apologize to thesheriff and be nice now and make them let you off easy. And dad blamesme for eloping with you and thinks we had it planned before he got homeyesterday, and he says there was no excuse and it showed a lack ofconfidence in his judgment. He says you are a d. fool and takeyourself too seriously, and it is a pity you couldn't have some senseknocked into you. But you must not mind him now because he is angryand will get over it. But Johnny, please do be a good boy now anddon't make us any more trouble. I am sure I never dreamed what you hadin mind, but I would have married you since we started to, but now itis perfectly odious to have it turn out such a fizzle, with you in jailand I being preached at every waking moment by dad and mommie. If youhad only kept your temper and waited until dad and mommie got here, Iam sure we would be married by now, because I could have made them givetheir consent and be present at the Wedding and everything go offpleasantly instead of such a horrid mess as this is.
"I want you to promise me now that you will be good, and I will makedad get the judge to let you off. Won't you please see dad and be niceto him? His calling you a d. fool does not mean anything. That isdad's way when he is peeved, and the jailer says you told him dad couldgo to h. That is why he said it and not on general principles, becausehe does really like you, Johnny. Of course we could see you anyway,because you couldn't help yourself, but dad won't do it unless you arewilling to be good. So please, dear, won't you let us come up and talknicely together? I am sure the sheriff bears no ill will though hisjaw is swelled a little but not much. So we can get you out of thisscrape if you will meet us halfway and be a nice sensible boy. Please,Johnny.
"Your loving Mary V."
Johnny read that last paragraph three times, and gave a snort with eachreading. If being let off easy involved the intercession of Mary V'sfather, Johnny would prefer imprisonment for life. At least, that iswhat he told himself. And if being a nice sensible boy meant that hewas to apologize to the sheriff and say pretty please to Sudden, thechance of Johnny's ever being nice and sensible was extremely remote.His loving Mary V had said too much--a common mistake. What she shouldhave done was confine her letter to a ten-word message, and tear themessage up. A fellow in Johnny's frame of mind were better left alonefor a while.
He sulked until he was taken down into the police court, where hiscrime was duly presented to the judge and his sentence duly pronounced.Knowing nothing whatever of the seamy side of life, as it is seeninside those dismal houses with barred windows, Johnny thought he wasbeing treated with much severity. As a matter of fact, his offence wasbeing almost forgiven, and the six days' sentence was merely a bit ofdiscipline applied by the judge because Johnny sulked and scowled andscarcely deigned to answer when he was spoken to.
The judge had a boy of his own, and it seemed to him that Johnny neededtime to think, and to recover from his sulks. Six days, in hisopinion, would be about right. The first two would be spent inrevilings; the third and fourth in realizing that he had only himselfto blame for his predicament, and the fifth and sixth days wouldstretch themselves out like months and he would come out a considerablychastened young man.
Another thing Johnny did not know was that, thanks to Mary V's father,he was not herded with the other prisoners, where the air was bad andthe company was worse. He went back to his room under the roof, wherethe jailer presently visited him and brought fruit and magazines and agreat box of candy, sent by Mary V with a doleful little note ofgood-by as tragic as though he were going to be hanged.
Johnny was sulkier than ever, but his stomach ached from fasting. Heate the fruit and the candy and gloomed in comparative comfort for therest of that day.
The next day, when the jailer invited him down into the jail yard for ahalf hour or so, Johnny experienced a fresh shock. Somewhere, high inthe air, he heard the droning hum of his airplane. Bland was notneglecting the opportunity Johnny had inadvertently given him, then.
Johnny craned his neck, but he could not see the plane
in the patch ofsky visible from the yard. He listened, and fancied the sound wasdiminishing with the distance. Bland was probably leaving the country,though Johnny could not quite understand how Bland had managed to getthe funds for a trip. Perhaps he had taken up a passenger or two--orif not that, Bland undoubtedly had ways of raising money unknown to thehonest.
Oh, well, what did it matter? What did anything matter? All the worldwas against John Ivan Jewel, and one treachery more or less could notalter greatly the black total. Not one friendly face had he seen inthe police court--since he did not call the reporters friendly. Mary Vhad not been there, as he had half expected; nor Sudden, as he hadfeared. The sheriff had not been friendly, in spite of his chuckle.Bland had not shown up--the pop-eyed little sneak!--probably because hehad already planned this treachery.
He went back to his lonely room too utterly depressed to think.Apathetically he read the paper which his jailer brought him along withthe tobacco which Johnny had sent for. Smoke was a dreary comfort--thepaper was not. The reporters had lost interest in him. Whereas twocolumns had been given to his personal affairs the day before, histroubles to-day had been dismissed with a couple of paragraphs. Theytold him, however, that the "irate father" had taken the weeping maidenout of town and left the "truculent young birdman pining in captivity."It was a sordid end to a most romantic exploit, declared the paper.And in that Johnny agreed. He could not quite visualize Mary V as aweeping maiden, unless she had wept tears of anger. But the fact thather irate father had taken her away without a word to him seemed toJohnny a silent notice served upon him that he was to be banisheddefinitely and forever from her life. So be it, he told himselfproudly. They need not think that he would ever attempt to break downthe barrier again. He would bide his time. And perhaps some day--
There hope crept in,--a faint, weary-winged, bedraggled hope, it istrue,--to comfort him a little. He was not down and out--yet! Hecould still show them that he had the stuff in him to make good.
He went to the window and listened eagerly. Once more he heard thehigh, strident droning of the Thunder Bird. He watched, pressing hisforehead against the bars. The sound increased steadily, and Johnny,gripping the bars until his fingers cramped afterwards, felt asuffocating beat in his throat. A great revulsion seized him, anoverwhelming desire to master a situation that had so far mastered him.What were six days--five days now? Why, already one day had gone, andthe Thunder Bird was still in town.
Johnny let go the bars and returned to his cot. The brief spasm ofhope had passed. What good would it do him if Bland carried passengersfrom morning until night, every day of the six? Bland couldn't save acent. The more he made, the more he would spend. He would simply goon a spree and perhaps wreck the plane before Johnny was free to holdhim in check.
Once more the motor's thrumming pulled him to the window. Again hecraned and listened, and this time he saw it, flying low so that thelanding gear showed plainly and he could even see Bland in the rearseat. He knew him by the drooping shoulders, the set of his head, bythat indefinable something which identifies a man to his acquaintancesat a distance. In the front seat was a stranger.
He could see the swirl of the propeller, like fine, circular linesdrawn in the air. The exhaust trailed a ribbon of bluish white behindthe tail. And that indescribable thrumming vibrated through the airand tore the very soul of him with yearning.
There it went, his airplane, that he loved more than he had ever lovedanything in his life. There it went, boring through the air, allaquiver with life, a sentient, live thing to be worshipped; a thing tofight for, a thing to cling to as he clung to life itself. And herewas he, locked into a hot, bare little room, fed as one feeds a cagedbeast. Disgraced, abandoned, impotent.
It was in that hour that Johnny found deeper depths of despair than hehad dreamed of before. Bedraggled hope limped away, crushed andbattered anew by this fresh tragedy.
