I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang Page #4

Come on, get up, quit your stalling.

I was just wiping the sweat off my face.

Well, you got it knocked off.

That won't do no good.

You got to ask their permission

to wipe the sweat off.

Wiping it off!

All right, Bomber, wipe it off.

Like that.

In the first place, you've got

to get their permission to sweat.

Come on, get to work there.

I gotta quit. My stomach is...

You get to work or I'll kick that bellyache

up around your ears.

Come on. Move on, there.

Come on, get up.

Pull it through.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Spread them out.

Twelve.

Come on, get out of here.

So this is the washroom?

Yeah, come on, there's plenty of room.

No, thanks. I forgot my bath salts.

All right, boys, show me the men

that didn't give us a good day's work.

Ackerman hasn't been

on the job today, Warden.

Is that so?

Come on.

Anybody else?

This guy, Red,

tried to pull a faint on us today.

Pulling a faint?

I don't care what you do to me.

It doesn't matter.

So that's the way you feel about it?

Take a look at that.

The skunk.

You're next.

Take his stinking shirt off.

A loudmouth?

All right, let him out.

Stand over there.

Well, Barney's gone.

Goodbye, Barney, old boy.

Don't forget to write, kid.

I'll see you in two or three years.

Goodbye, kid.

Don't forget to write, Barney.

- So long.

- So long.

See you soon.

- Good luck.

- You need it.

The lucky rat.

At least it proves something.

You really can get out of here.

Sure you can. And I'm counting the days.

They ain't gonna cheat me out of nothing.

- When is your time up?

- I got it figured out exactly.

Four days, two weeks, seven months

and 12 years.

Let me see. Four weeks from 10 years.

Nine years and 48 weeks.

You can't count those away.

Red's leaving today, too.

All right, hurry it up.

Let's go.

Well, there's just two ways

to get out of here.

Work out, and die out.

Might as well grab a ride into town

with us.

Yeah, I can't walk very good

without them chains on.

Doesn't a man ever break loose?

You mean, hang it on the limb?

There's too many breaks against you.

You've got to beat the chains,

the bloodhounds...

and a bunch of guards

who'd just as soon bring you back dead.

It's been done...

but you got to figure out

some perfect scheme.

You gotta watch.

You gotta wait.

Maybe one year, maybe two.

Then...

hang it on the limb.

- Sebastian.

- Yes?

Can you hit my shackles

hard enough to bend them?

- You thinking about...

- Been thinking about it for months.

If you can bend my shackles

just so I can slide them off my foot...

I don't want to get in no trouble,

but I'd like to see you get away.

The heat's got the guards down.

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