"They will say that he came into the cellar at our bidding."
This girl was terribly reasonable and direct.
"Hang it! I know Teddy Hamilton, the M. F. H. He'll go my bail, and yours, too, for that matter. Come, let's not give up. There must be some other way out."
"I wish I might believe it. Why did I come?"—a bit of a wail stealing into the anger in her voice.
"This is Tom Fool's Night, and no mistake," I assented ruefully.
"But I am a bigger fool than you are; I had an alibi, and a good one."
"An alibi? Why on earth, then, did you follow me? What is your alibi?"
"Never mind now. We should still be in this miserable cellar,"—briefly. "What a night! I am so ashamed! I shall be horribly compromised."
"I'll take the brunt of it all. I'm sorry; but, for the love of Heaven, don't cry, or I shall lose what little nerve I have left."
"I am not crying!" she denied emphatically. "My inclination is to shriek with laughter. I'm hysterical. And who wouldn't be, with police officers and cells staring one in the face? Let us be going. That policeman outside will presently hear us whispering if we stand here much longer."