kind of embarrassed, seeing how Alvin was in custody.
"Not much of a welcome, is it?" said Ruthie Baker, her face grim. "I swear, that Makepeace Smith has bit himself a tough piece of gristle with this mischief."
"Just bring me some of them snickerdoodles in jail," said Alvin. "I been hankering for them the whole way here."
"You can bet the ladies'll be quarreling all day about who's to feed you," said Ruth. "I just wish dear old Peg had been here to greet you." And she burst into quick, sentimental tears. "Oh, I wish I didn't cry so easy!"
Alvin gave her a quick hug, then looked at the sheriff. "She ain't passing me no file to saw the bars with," he said. "So is it all right if I..."
"Oh, shut up, Alvin," said Sheriff Doggly. "Why the hell did you even come back here?"
At that moment the door swung open and Makepeace Smith himself strode in. "There he is! The thief has been apprehended at last! Sheriff, make him give me my plow!"
Po Doggly looked him in the eye. Makepeace was a big man, with massive arms and legs like tree trunks, but when the sheriff faced him Makepeace wilted like a flower. "Makepeace, you get out of my way right now."
"I want my plow!" Makepeace insisted - but he backed out the door.
"It ain't your plow till the court says it's your plow, if it ever does," said the sheriff.
Horace Guester chimed in. "It ain't your plow till you show you know how to make one just like it."
But Alvin himself said nothing to Makepeace. He just walked on out of the roadhouse, pausing in the doorway only to tell Horace, "You let Arthur Stuart visit me all he wants, you hear?"
"He'll want to sleep right in the cell with you, Alvin, you know that!"
Alvin laughed. "I bet he can fit right through the bars, he's so skinny."
"I made those bars!" Makepeace Smith shouted. "And they're too close together for anyone to fit through!"
Ruth Baker shouted back, just as loudly. "Well, if you made those bars, little Arthur can no doubt bend them out of the way!"
"Come on now, folks," Sheriff Doggly said. "I'm just making a little arrest here, so stand clear and let me bring the prisoner on through. While you, Makepeace, are exactly three words away from being arrested your own self for obstructing justice and disturbing the peace."
"Arrest me!" cried Makepeace.
"Now you're just one word away," said Sheriff Doggly. "Come on, any word will do. Say it. Let me lock you up, Makepeace. You know I'm dying to."
Makepeace knew he was. He clamped his mouth shut and took a few steps away from the roadhouse porch. But then he turned to watch, and let himself smile as he saw Alvin getting led away down the street toward the courthouse, and the jail out back.
Chapter 11 - Jail
Calvin's French was awful - but that was hardly his worry. Talking he had done in England, and plenty of it, until he learned to imitate the cultured accents of a refined gentleman. But here in Paris, talking was useless - harmful, even. One did not become a figure of myth and rumor by chatting. That's one thing Calvin had learned from Alvin, all right, even though Alvin never meant to teach it. Alvin never tooted his own horn. So every Tom, Dick, and Sally tooted it for him. And the quieter he got, the more they bragged about him. That was what Calvin did from the moment he arrived in Paris, kept his silence as he went about healing people.
He had been working on healing - like Taleswapper said, that was a knack people would appreciate a lot more than a knack for killing bugs. No way could Calvin do the subtle things that Alvin talked about, seeing the tiny creatures that spread disease, understanding the workings of the little bits of life out of which human bodies were built. But there were things within Calvin's grasp. Gross things, like bringing the edges of open wounds together and getting the skin to scar over - Calvin didn't rightly understand how he did it, but he could sort of squinch it together in his mind and the scarstuff would grow.
Getting skin to split, too, letting the nasty fluids spew out - that was impressive indeed, especially when Calvin did it with beggars on the city streets. Of course, a lot of