"Go, child, and send muddie here. I want her. I have no time to talk to you."
Frank took the other little fellow by the hand, and they trotted off together. He knocked at the door of Mrs. Rayburn's room with a soft little hand. Janet knew the sound, and came to him.
"Muddie, father's in the parlour, and you must go to him; he wants you. Oh, muddie, he does look so!"
"What does he look like?" Janet asked, smiling.
"Well, like the p'orligal son in my picture-book," answered Frank, after considering the matter.
Janet laughed, closed the bedroom door gently, and went to the parlour. She was still laughing when she entered it. Poor Janet!
It was a cruel business, a horrible task for Fred Rayburn. It was so hard to awaken Janet's fears, so hard to make her believe that he was in earnest. But at last it was done; and then he was surprised to see how bravely she bore the tidings, and how full of practical help she was.
"Fred dear, the worst of it is your chance of being arrested. I don't think Mr. Henley has any right to threaten that, for the fault is his as much as yours. Have you any money, dear?"
"My quarter's salary."
"And I have twenty pounds—my little savings. I meant to surprise you; but, never mind that. Dear Fred, you must get away at once. The sooner you do so, the sooner you can begin life again, and we must earn enough to pay this debt. I will go at once and beg Mr. Henley to wait—not to have you searched for."