By and by, the man who had ceased to be master returned without the cage, utterly demoralized; and was here without a weapon, without a plan.

I resigned my place and told him I would bring a rope.

This I intended to do, and also my hatchet.
I had but gotten half way to the front door when there was a scuffle, the loud voice of my husband, shrieks up stairs, rattling of furniture and crashing of glass, and when I got back to the room I saw the tip of Tom's tail disappearing.

He had gone through the window and taken the sash with him.

He ran into his cage, and that was his last taste of liberty; but he lived a year after, chained in a corn crib.