“What could we tell the police?” asked Jack, looking at Marjorie. “They will be here any minute now.”
“Oh, tell them anything! Tell them it was me, startin’ to work extra early,” said Anna, her fear of the law sharpening her wits.
“He ought to be in jail!” muttered Jack. “However, let him come up, anyhow. We’ll see what John says when he comes back. Go pull the door open, will you, Dick?”
As a precautionary measure, Jack stepped clear of the others, with his revolver ready. Anna ran to the door before Dick could reach it, had it open, and called down:
“Come out, Pa! It’s all right.”
An elderly man, with a half-eaten apple in one hand, came blinking into the daylight.
As soon as Marjorie saw him, she started violently.
“Why, he’s the old man who warned us, that first day!” she exclaimed in an undertone to Jack. “The tea-room’s first guest!”
When he espied Marjorie, he nodded his head.
“Good morning, Miss! I hope you’ll excuse the liberty—I just had to have one of those apples. I’m Anna’s father. She told me what prime apples you had down there.” And he waved his hand towards the cellar. Then, catching sight of Jack with a revolver, a twinkle appeared in his eyes.