“Don’t let that worry you, my child. We will not believe it, and they shall not touch you.”
“They will!” she panted. “The sheriff is after me now. I ran away from him and the others, but they are following me. I ran all the way up here.”
“I wish Rob was here,” said Joe, the tears filling her eyes. “But they shan’t take you away, Mary, if we can help it.”
“You can’t. Let me hide somewhere.”
“You shall,” cried her mother. “Come into the house.”
The others followed the mother and her daughter, not knowing what to do or say.
“I do not believe they will come way up here after you,” said Joe, more hopefully than she felt.
“They will. I heard ’Squire Hardy say that he would send every one of us to the jail or county farm inside of two weeks. And that boy of his shouted after me, and when I ran he gave chase. He overtook me, but when he tried to drag me back, or hold me until the sheriff got there, I pushed him over the bank and ran again.”
“Did—did you kill him?” fairly gasped her mother.
“I don’t know. Where can I hide?”