“Suppose you had killed her!” exclaimed Mary Louise solemnly.
“I ain’t supposin’. Besides, nobody knows I done it except Mrs. Ferguson and you girls, and if any of you dames tell on me, I’ve got plenty to tell on you!”
“No doubt about that,” agreed Mary Louise. “Well, I must be getting on. I’m going to the hotel for breakfast.”
“How about my money?” demanded the young man. “Mrs. Ferguson wrote me you’d be along today and said you’d pay me. She promised me ten bucks.”
This announcement scared Mary Louise; she didn’t know whether she should pay the man or not, in order to keep up the pretence that she was a member of the secret band. If she refused, mightn’t he knock her down? Yet if she complied with his demand and let him see the roll of bills, what would prevent his stealing them all at once?
However, a solution came to her mind, and she decided to risk it.
“I haven’t more than five dollars in my purse,” she said, opening it and showing him the contents. “I’ll have to pay you when I get back, after I have something to eat. I’m starved—I didn’t have any supper last night.”
“O.K.,” agreed the young man, to Mary Louise’s surprise. “Meet me here in an hour?”
“Yes, just about,” returned Mary Louise, hurrying down the driveway.
The minute she reached the road, out of sight of the house, Mary Louise started to run, and she kept on running for perhaps a couple of minutes. Then she stopped abruptly, dropping down on the cold, hard ground. She was so faint, she did not believe that she could take another step.