The features of the old woman hardened.
“You'll be safer in my care than in his,” she said, with warning in her tone.
“Yes, yes, I know I am safe here, but how is it with my friend if I leave him here? We came together and we'll go together.”
The crone nodded with a laugh that ended in a snarl.
“If the gang knew he was here there would be more fun than you saw the other night.”
“Don't worry about me, Mr. Wilton,” said Corson with a grin. “I've stood her crowd off before, and I can do it again if the need comes. But I'd rather smoke a poipe in peace.”
“You can smoke in peace, but it's not yourself you can thank for it,” said Mother Borton sharply. “There'll be no trouble here to-night. Come along.” And the old woman started for the door.
“Are you sure you're all right?” asked Corson in a low voice. “There's men gone up those stairs that came down with a sheet over them.”
“It's all right—that is, unless there's any danger to you in leaving you here.”
“No. Go ahead. I'll wait for ye. I'd as lief sit here as anywheres.”