"Well, if you must go," said Miss Laura, "please be careful and do not go out the front way. Take the side door, where there's nobody likely to see you." And leading the way down the passage between the library and the dining-room she slipped a bolt and opened the door enough to let us out. She held out her hand to me.
"You're not to get hurt," she murmured, as I paused.
"That settles it. I shall preserve a whole skin." And with a pressure of the hand, I hastened out the door.
The yells from the front came with renewed distinctness, but no sounds of attack were to be heard. The mob appeared to have resolved itself into a disorderly debating society. I hurried to the rear of the house with my messenger.
"Are any of our men back here?" I asked.
"One--Reardon is at the kitchen steps," replied the man.
Reardon proved to be awake and ready for any enterprise, and we advanced to the fence and reconnoitered. The dim light showed a band of fifteen or twenty men gathered a few yards away in the vacant lot behind the Kendrick place.
"Aren't they ready yet?" asked one impatient conspirator. "I could have fixed forty fire-balls in the time you've taken to fix those three."
"Why didn't you come and do it then?" was the resentful and belligerent answer. "I'll have them ready in a jiffy."
With a few whispered words of direction I stationed my men by the fence, a dozen yards apart, and took my place between them. Then climbing up I gave a blast on a police whistle, and cried: