“You? You?” she admonished softly.
“Don’t say a word,” he whispered hurriedly.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” she said with knitted brow.
“I had to—to say good-bye once more.” And his voice was so filled with tenderness that she readily forgave him for the indiscretion.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” murmured Nick, his hand still on the door, which he had taken the precaution to bolt after the Girl had passed through it.
There was a moment’s silence; then, going over to the windows, the Girl pulled down the curtains.
“The boys are good for quite a little bit,” she said as she came back. “Don’t git nervous—I’ll give you warnin’....”
Nick, unwilling to witness the heartrending scene which he foresaw would follow, noiselessly withdrew into the bar-room, leaving the prisoner alone with the Girl.
“Don’t be afraid, my Girl,” said Johnson, softly.
But the Girl’s one thought, after her first gladness, was of his safety: