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...Connolly, amazed, shook his heavy head,
kids do not lie well, the truth had been said,
having heard the tale, he just could not blame
a child with such anguish in his brain.

“Where are your sisters?”he asked patiently.
“There still in the house, and no doubt hungry.
But I can’t go back there, with what I’ve done,
that’s why I just rode on, trying to run.”

“Do you have family?”Connolly asked.
“An aunt if Bridgeford,” came the answer fast.
“Could you maybe tell her, of my sisters?
She has a house, and they could live with her!”

Connolly nodded. “I’ll take them myself.
As for a wanted man, he would do well
to leave this here county, head out elsewhere,
since I would have no jurisdiction there.”

The boy sat silent, then his eyes perked up,
Connolly remounted, and said, “Tracking’s tough.
Sometimes it’s easy to find your quarry,
sometimes they escape, it’s happened to me.”

With that he turned his horse towards the spread,
put his spurs to it, and away he sped,
he’d tell the town the killer got away,
these things happened, even on your first day.

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