He saw above a narrow cleft of somber sky, and
something cold and trailing lay across his face. He shivered with
repulsion, snatched at it to throw it off, and found that it was his
rope. Then he felt of himself cautiously and fearfully, but found that
no bones were broken. Nor was he bruised to any degree and now he knew
that he could not have fallen more than two or three feet. Perhaps he
had struck first upon the little pack which he had fastened upon his
back. It reminded him that he was shoeless and coatless and undoing the
pack he reclothed himself fully.
He was quite sure that he had not lain there more than a quarter of an
hour. Nothing had happened while he was unconscious. It was a dark
little alley in the rear of the prison, and the buildings on the other
side that abutted upon it were windowless. He walked cautiously to the
mouth of the alley, and looked up and down the street. He saw no one,
and, pulling his cap down over his eyes, he started instinctively toward
the north, because it was to the far north that he wished to go. He was
fully aware that he faced great dangers, almost impossibilities.
Practically nothing was in his favor, save that he spoke excellent
Spanish and also Mexican versions of it.
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