"Yes," said Mr. Morton quietly. "I want to post you about something."
"Oh, all right; right with you, sir," returned Phin, leaping up and following the coach outside.
"What is it?" asked Phin, beginning to feel uneasy.
"Come along where the others can't hear," replied Mr. Morton, taking hold of Drayne's nearer elbow.
Phin turned white now. He went along, saying nothing, until Mr.
Morton halted by the outer gate.
"Pass through, Drayne—-and never let us see your face inside this gate again."
"But why? What——"
"Ask your conscience!" snapped back the coach. "You'd better travel fast! I'm going back to talk to the other fellows!"
Mr. Morton was gone. For an instant Phin Drayne stood there as though he would brave out this assertion of authority. Then, seized by another impulse, he turned and made rapidly for a town-bound street car that was heading his way.
"What's up?" asked two or three of the fellows of Dick Prescott. Perceiving something out of the usual, they spoke in the same breath.