“I’m here to say,” he made comment, “that granddad went in for inexpensive verse. I’d say free, except that it rhymes.”
“Free? We’ve paid a greater price than you imagine, Peter Pape. And if all we are to gain is the unmasking of Sam Allen——”
“We’re going to gain everything—more than you can imagine from the little you love me yet,” he reassured her, not to mention himself. Then, again, he took himself in hand. “I, for one, am getting in something of a hurry,” he tacitly apologized. “If you’ll hold to our side-kick here, I’ll take another scout.”
As before, he wriggled over the rim of their hideout; was gone ten minutes or so; on his stealthy return made report:
“They’ve driven off our nags, but left a horse-cop on patrol. A pair of patrolmen are snooping along the west wall and the northwest gate is doubly guarded. The Allen pull sure has pulled fast and many, this early evening. There is nothing to it but to lie low here until night. Mighty sorry for you, precious pal. I know you’re about all in. But they ain’t going to pinch Miss Jane Lauderdale, of the Lauderdales, twice in the same twenty-four hours—not in my extant company.”
“I’m afraid they’re going to have a chance.” The girl caught at his arm. “The dog—didn’t he join you?”
“Kick? No. How did he get away?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! He wrenched himself from me. I thought—I hoped he only wanted to follow you. Didn’t dare call out for fear——”
“Another false friend, eh? Looks like this is our day for uncovering ’em. The pup had a flea-bite of conscience, I reckon.”
Jane disagreed. “Not intentionally—please, not Kicko! Don’t make me doubt everybody. It’s only that he likes a ‘party.’ The more the merrier is his motto, if he has one.”