Sabrina began to get nervous as the young man's face filled with rage. She knew the answer to his question but thought it best to lie. "No, I don't."
"I sell shoes and suits at Harold's House of Big and Tall," Jack exploded. "A lowly sales boy! I sat with kings. I drank the finest wines in the world. I filled my belly with exotic meats and socialized with the world's most interesting people and now, because of that cursed spell that keeps us here, I spend my days measuring inseams and helping people pick out insoles!"
"We're sorry," Daphne said.
"At least that's what I used to do. Today I quit!" Jack bragged. "I have a feeling Jack the Giant Killer's luck is going to change."
"So how did you end up in jail?" Sabrina asked.
"That miserable cur, Charming," Jack raged. "Runs this town like it's his own personal kingdom and wants to keep the rest of us as peasants."
"Did he give you the fat lip?" asked Sabrina.
"No ... I had a disagreement with some business associates," Jack said, wiping his wound with a bloody handkerchief. "No worries. You can't keep a bloke like me down, can you? No-siree-bob! You can count on that!"
"Jack, I hate to interrupt, but we've really got to hurry. Is there anything you can tell us that will help?" Sabrina said.
"Oh, I'm going to be a big help to you ladies," he said with a confident grin. "Just as soon as the two of you break me out of jail."
Chapter 8
abrina gasped.
"You want us to help you break out of prison?"
Jack nodded his head. "Quite right."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Sabrina asked.
"Easy, you go in through the front door and distract the guard. Then the little one here will hit him in the gob with a club or something and snatch his keys."
"I'm seven years old. I can't hit someone with a club, and not in the gob—whatever that is!" Daphne cried.
"Sure you can. Deputy Crane isn't going to put up a fight. He's daft in the head and jumpy as a flea. But if he does happen to put up a fight, all you have to do is hit him in the shins. He'll fall over like a sack of potatoes," Jack replied.
"She's not hitting anyone with a club," Sabrina said.
"Well, if saving your granny and her pal isn't that important to you, I can just stay in the nick."
Sabrina looked into Jack's hopeful face. How could this odd little man actually be the key to Granny and Mr. Canis's survival? It just didn't seem possible, but on the other hand, the note Granny had left told them that the mirror would have all the answers they needed. After two days of disbelieving everything the old woman had told her, Sabrina didn't feel like being proven wrong again, especially when so much was riding on the outcome.
"So girls, what's it going to be? If I could do it myself, I would have already, but the bobby took my lock-picking kit when he put the cuffs on me. Smart on his part, too. There isn't a door Jack can't open."
"You say there's only one deputy?"
"Yes," Jack insisted.
"And he happens to be Ichabod Crane—the guy from 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'?"
"Not so much a legend as a true story, but yes."
"We'll get you out of here, but we're going to do it my way," Sabrina declared. "No one is going to get hurt. Deal?"
Jack frowned but thrust his hand out the window. He shook Sabrina's and smiled. "So boss, what's the plan?"
"First, I'm going to need your shirt."
? ? ?
When Sabrina opened the front door to the police station, her heart was pounding faster than it had ever pounded. They were taking a huge chance, especially with Sheriff Hamstead and his deputies searching for them. By now Crane had to know the girls were on the loose. Two kids dressed in bright-orange monkey sweatshirts, flying around on a magic carpet with a two-hundred-pound Great Dane weren't going to be too hard to spot. On the upside, what they were about to do was the sneakiest thing the girls had ever tried. It was nice to be challenged every once in awhile.
When the door swung open, Sabrina half expected to find Hamstead, Boarman, and Swineheart waiting for them. But luckily, the station was empty except for a tall, painfully thin man with a gigantic hooked nose, thin lips, and an Adam's apple that bobbed up and down. Ichabod Crane looked just like the story had described him, and he was fast asleep, sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on his desk.
Sabrina found the light switch and flipped it off, drowning the room in murkiness. She gestured behind her and the carpet drifted in, hovering two feet off the ground and carrying its own Headless Horseman: Daphne, sitting on Elvis's back and wearing Jack's shirt so that her head was hidden inside.
"He's going to figure this out," Daphne whispered.
"It's our only shot," Sabrina replied. She crouched down behind an empty desk and cupped her hands around her mouth. She used her feet to kick the door shut and it slammed so loudly the poor man fell backward over his chair. Once he was on his hands and knees, he rubbed his eyes and looked around in the dark.