"Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon--it's heads or I lose!" said
the judge.
He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward.
Suddenly his forward movement was arrested.
"I was afraid of that!" he said, with a rather piteous smile.
"It's my stomach, Solomon!" Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders
with lean muscular hands. "Pull!" cried the judge hoarsely.
But Mahaffy's vigorous efforts failed to move him.
"I guess you're stuck, Price!"
"Get your wind, Solomon," urged the judge, "and then, if Hannibal
will reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while
you pull, I may get through." But even this expedient failed.
"Do you reckon you can get me back? I should not care to spend
the night so!" said the judge. He was purple and panting.
"Let's try you edgewise!" And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the
jail again.
"No," said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on
his part and on the part of Mahaffy. "Providence has been kind
to me in the past, but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when
they cut this hole."
"Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see
if I can get into my cabin--I've got an old saw there. If I can
find it, I can come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the
logs, or the cleats of the door."
"In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!" implored the
judge. "Why procrastinate?"
"Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must
have a full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before
we've gone ten miles!"
The judge groaned.
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