"Git," rejoined the tramp.
"But how?" queried Banborough.
"Oh, I'll fix that all right," said the Quaker. "I bagged a plated tea-service here five years ago, and if they ain't changed the arrangements of the house, this side door leads into an unused passage, which, barrin' the climbin' of a picket fence, is very handy for escape."
"But how about the waiter?" suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, who was always practical.
"Right you are," said Friend Othniel. "We'll lock the door before we get out. They'll waste time enough over trying to open it, to give us a chance."
To speak was to act, and the tramp softly turned the key and slipped it into his pocket.
"As a memento," he said. "It's all I'm likely to git. They don't even use plate now." And he fingered the spoons and forks on the table regretfully.
"Come," said Spotts shortly. "We've no time to lose."
"Look here," said Banborough to the company, "I may be a criminal, but I'm not a sneak, and I don't order meals and apartments without paying for them. How much ought I to leave behind?"
Spotts laughed.