“Still, you know it would be safe with Mr. Grant.”
“Yes,” said Hetty. “Larry never did anything mean in his life. But you don’t understand, Flo. He didn’t know it was there, and it might have dropped out on the prairie, while, even if he found it, how is he going to get it back to me? The boys would fire on him if he came here.”
Flora Schuyler looked frightened. “You will have to tell your father, Hetty.”
Hetty trembled a little. “It is going to be the hardest thing I ever did. He is just dreadful in his quietness when he is angry—and I would have to tell him I had been meeting Larry and sending him dollars. You know what he would fancy.”
It was evident that Hetty was very much afraid of her father, and as clear to Miss Schuyler that the latter would have some cause for unpleasant suspicions. Then, the girl turned to her companion appealingly.
“Flo,” she said, “tell me what to do. The thing frightens me.”
Miss Schuyler slipped an arm about her. “Wait,” she said. “Your father will not be here until noon to-morrow, and that letter is in the hands of a very honest man. I think you can trust him to get it back to you.”
“But he couldn’t send anybody without giving me away, and he knows it might cost him his liberty to come here,” said Hetty.
“I scarcely fancy that would stop him.”
Hetty turned, and looked at her friend curiously. “Flo, I wonder how it would have suited if Larry had been fond of you.”