"He will take care of her for his own sake. Leave her to him!" Warden spoke with a hint of disdain. "She'll get nothing worse than a fright," he said, "possibly not even that—if he gets her to the manager's house in time."
"In time!" she echoed. "In time for what? What is going to happen? What do you mean?"
His hold tightened upon her. "Well," he said, "there's going to be a row. But I'm boss of this show, and I reckon I can deal with it. Only—I'll have you safe first, little new chum. I'm not taking any chances where you are concerned."
She gasped a little. The steady assurance of his voice stirred her strangely.
She tried to release herself from his hold. "I don't like this place," she said. "Let me go back to Mr. Hill."
"That's just what I can't do." He bent suddenly down to her. "Won't you trust me?" he said. "I didn't fail you last time, did I?"
She thrilled in answer to those words. It was as if thereby he had flung down all barriers between them. She stood for a moment in indecision, then impulsively she turned and grasped his arms.
"I trust you—absolutely," she told him, tremulously. "But—but—though I know you don't like him—promise me—you won't let—Fletcher be hurt!"
He, too, was silent for a moment before responding. She fancied that he flinched a little at her words. Then: "All right, I promise," he said.
"Then I will go—wherever you like," she said, bravely, and put her hand into his.