A Michigan Man | Page 4

noisy streets behind two spirited horses. They drew after them a troop
of noisy, jeering boys, who danced about the wagon like a swirl of
autumn leaves. Then came a halt, and Luther was dragged up the steps
of a square brick building with a belfry on the top. They entered a large
bare room with benches ranged about the walls, and brought him before
a man at a desk.
"What is your name?" asked the man at the desk.
"Hi yi halloo!" said Luther.
"He's drunk, sergeant," said one of the men in blue, and the axe-man

was led into the basement. He was conscious of an involuntary
resistance, a short struggle, and a final shock of pain--then oblivion.
The chopper awoke to the realization of three stone walls and an iron
grating in front. Through this he looked out upon a stone flooring
across which was a row of similar apartments. He neither knew nor
cared where he was. The feeling of imprisonment was no greater than
he had felt on the endless, cheerless streets. He laid himself on the
bench that ran along a side wall, and, closing his eyes, listened to the
babble of the clear stream and the thunder of the "drive" on its journey.
How the logs hurried and jostled! crushing, whirling, ducking, with the
merry lads leaping about them with shouts and laughter. Suddenly he
was recalled by a voice. Some one handed a narrow tin cup full of
coffee and a thick slice of bread through the grating. Across the way he
dimly saw a man eating a similar slice of bread. Men in other
compartments were swearing and singing, He knew these now for the
voices he had heard in his dreams. He tried to force some of the bread
down his parched and swollen throat, but failed; the coffee strangled
him, and he threw himself upon the bench.
The forest again, the night-wind, the whistle of the axe through the air!
Once when he opened his eyes he found it dark! It would soon be time
to go to work. He fancied there would be hoarfrost on the trees in the
morning. How close the cabin seemed! Ha!--here came his little sister.
Her voice sounded like the wind on a spring morning. How loud it
swelled now! "Lu! Lu!" she cried.
The next morning the lock-up keeper opened the cell door. Luther lay
with his head in a pool of blood. His soul had escaped from the thrall of
the forest.
"Well, well!" said the little fat police justice, when he was told of it.
"We ought to have a doctor around to look after such cases."

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