Hugh Pendexter

“ Then he was bustled off to his cell, his soul sick unto death and his face so distorted by misery that even the guard, hardened to all phases of human despair, sought clumsily to cheer him. Which one was dying? His wife, so trusting, his only friend? Or was it the youngster, who wept when they led him away?
This awful half intelligence gave him superhuman strength, daring, and cunning, and enabled him to accomplish the almost impossible feat of getting away from the prison in broad daylight. The same strength that had brought him to the hillside should take him home to the death-bed. ”

“ He feared nothing from man now. No one could deny him the right to stand beside his dead. And his step, though dragging, was deliberate as he entered the familiar street, as one who follows behind a hearse. ”

“ He would have dared the daylight and plunged on, only now he realized that his legs were growing limp, and he remembered that he had eaten nothing since the noon before.
To obtain food he must steal it; but he did not see his chance until a man, carrying two pails, crossed the road and entered a barn ahead of him. Making a détour, the fugitive approached the building from the rear, where he found a small door ajar. Luck smiled on him a bit, for a woman's querulous voice caused the milker to leave his task. The intruder gained with noiseless steps the line of champing cattle and seized a pail. ”