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continued in a bellow of rage。 Then； as suddenly as it had cried
aloud； it sank to silence； only after a pause of an instant； as
though giving a signal； to shriek again in two sharp blasts。 And
then again it broke into the hideous long drawn scream of rage；
insistent； breathless； commanding； filling the soul of him who
heard it； even of the innocent； with alarm。
〃In the name of Heaven！〃 gasped Keep； 〃what's that？〃
Down the terrace the butler was hastening toward them。 When he
stopped； he spoke as though he were announcing dinner。 〃A
convict； sir；〃 he said； 〃has escaped from Sing Sing。 I thought
you might not understand the whistle。 I thought perhaps you would
wish Mrs。 Keep to come in…doors。〃
〃Why？〃 asked Winnie Keep。
〃The house is near the road； madam；〃 said the butler。 〃And there
are so many trees and bushes。 Last summer two of them hid here；
and the keepersthere was a fight。〃 The man glanced at Keep。
Fred touched his wife on the arm。
〃It's time to dress for dinner； Win；〃 he said。
〃And what are you going to do？〃 demanded Winnie。
I'm going to finish this cigar first。 It doesn't take me long to
change。〃 He turned to the butler。 〃And I'll have a cocktail； too
I'll have it out here。〃
The servant left them； but in the French window that opened from
the terrace to the library Mrs。 Keep lingered irresolutely。
〃Fred；〃 she begged； 〃youyou're not going to poke around in the
bushes； are you？just because you think I'm frightened？〃
Her husband laughed at her。 〃I certainly am NOT！〃 he said。 〃And
you're not frightened； either。 Go in。 I'll be with you in a
minute。〃
But the girl hesitated。 Still shattering the silence of the night
the siren shrieked relentlessly； it seemed to be at their very
door； to beat and buffet the window…panes。 The bride shivered and
held her fingers to her ears。
〃Why don't they stop it！〃 she whispered。 〃Why don't they give him
a chance！〃
When she had gone； Fred pulled one of the wicker chairs to the
edge of the terrace； and； leaning forward with his chin in his
hands； sat staring down at the lake。 The moon had cleared the
tops of the trees； had blotted the lawns with black； rigid
squares； had disguised the hedges with wavering shadows。
Somewhere near at hand a criminala murderer； burglar； thugwas
at large； and the voice of the prison he had tricked still
bellowed in rage； in amazement； still clamored not only for his
person but perhaps for his life。 The whole countryside heard it：
the farmers bedding down their cattle for the night； the guests
of the Briar Cliff Inn； dining under red candle shades； the joy
riders from the city； racing their cars along the Albany road。 It
woke the echoes of Sleepy Hollow。 It crossed the Hudson。 The
granite walls of the Palisades flung it back against the granite
walls of the prison。 Whichever way the convict turned； it hunted
him； reaching for him； pointing him outstirring in the heart of
each who heard it the lust of the hunter； which never is so cruel
as when the hunted thing is a man。
〃Find him！〃 shrieked the siren。 〃Find him！ He's there； behind
your hedge！ He's kneeling by the stone wall。 THAT'S he running in
the moonlight。 THAT'S he crawling through the dead leaves！ Stop
him！ Drag him down！ He's mine！ Mine！〃
But from within the prison； from within the gray walls that made
the home of the siren； each of twelve hundred men cursed it with
his soul。 Each； clinging to the bars of his cell； each； trembling
with a fearful joy； each； his thumbs up； urging on with all the
strength of his will the hunted； rat…like figure that stumbled
panting through the crisp October night； bewildered by strange
lights； beset by shadows； staggering and falling； running like a
mad dog in circles； knowing that wherever his feet led him the
siren still held him by the heels。
As a rule； when Winnie Keep was dressing for dinner； Fred； in the
room adjoining； could hear her unconsciously and light…heartedly
singing to herself。 It was a habit of hers that he loved。 But on
this night； although her room was directly above where he sat
upon the terrace； he heard no singing。 He had been on the terrace
for a quarter of an hour。 Gridley； the aged butler who was rented
with the house； and who for twenty years had been an inmate of
it； had brought the cocktail and taken away the empty glass。 And
Keep had been alone with his thoughts。 They were entirely of the
convict。 If the man suddenly confronted him and begged his aid；
what would he do？ He knew quite well what he would do。 He
considered even the means by which he would assist the fugitive
to a successful get…away。
The ethics of the question did not concern Fred。 He did not weigh
his duty to the State of New York； or to society。 One day； when
he had visited 〃the institution；〃 as a somewhat sensitive
neighborhood prefers to speak of it； he was told that the chance
of a prisoner's escaping from Sing Sing and not being at once
retaken was one out of six thousand。 So with Fred it was largely
a sporting proposition。 Any man who could beat a
six…thousand…to…one shot commanded his admiration。
And； having settled his own course of action； he tried to imagine
himself in the place of the man who at that very moment was
endeavoring to escape。 Were he that man； he would first； he
decided； rid himself of his tell…tale clothing。 But that would
leave him naked； and in Westchester County a naked man would be
quite as conspicuous as one in the purple…gray cloth of the
prison。 How could he obtain clothes？ He might hold up a
passer…by； and； if the passer…by did not flee from him or punch
him into insensibility； he might effect an exchange of garments；
he might by threats obtain them from some farmer； he might
despoil a scarecrow。
But with none of these plans was Fred entirely satisfied。 The
question deeply perplexed him。 How best could a naked man clothe
himself？ And as he sat pondering that point； from the bushes a
naked man emerged。 He was not entirely undraped。 For around his
nakedness he had drawn a canvas awning。 Fred recognized it as
having been torn from one of the row…boats in the lake。 But；
except for that； the man was naked to his heels。 He was a young
man of Fred's own age。 His hair was cut close； his face
smooth…shaven； and above his eye was a half…healed bruise。 He
had the sharp； clever； rat…like face of one who lived by evil
knowledge。 Water dripped from him； and either for that reason or
from fright the young man trembled； and； like one who had been
running； breathed in short； hard gasps。
Fred was surprised to find that he was not in the least
surprised。 It was as though he had been waiting for the man； as
though it had been an appointment。
Two thoughts alone concerned him： that before he could rid
himself of his visitor his wife might return and take alarm； and
that the man； not knowing his friendly intentions； and in a state
to commit murder； might rush him。 But the stranger made no
hostile move； and for a moment in the moonlight the two young men
eyed each other warily。
Then； taking breath and with a violent effort to stop the
chattering of his teeth； the stranger launched into his story。
〃I took a bath in your pond；〃 he blurted forth； 〃andand they
stole my clothes！ That's why I'm like this！〃
Fred was consumed with envy。 In comparison with this ingenious
narrative how prosaic and commonplace became his own plans to rid
himself of accusing garments and explain his nakedness。 He
regarded the stranger with admiration。 But even though he
applauded the other's invention； he could not let him suppose
that he was deceived by it。
〃Isn't it rather a cold night to take a bath？〃 he said。
As though in hearty agreement； the naked man burst into a violent
fit of shivering。
〃It wasn't a bath；〃 he gasped。 〃It was a bet！〃
〃A what！〃 exclaimed Fred。 His admiration was increasing。 〃A bet？
Then you are not alone？〃
〃I am NOWdamn them！〃 exclaimed the naked one。 He began again
reluctantly。 〃We saw you from the road； you and a woman； sitting
here in the light from that room。 They bet me I didn't dare strip
and swim across your pond with you sitting so near。 I can see now
it was framed up on me from the start。