Twombley nodded.
About noon Northrup departed, but he did not reach the inn until nearly dark.
Heathcote and Polly had been tremendously agitated by the appearance of the Morris car and the Japanese. They were in a sad state of excitement. The vicious circle of unbelievable happenings seemed to be drawing close.
“I guess I’ll put the Chinese”––Peter was not careful as to particulars––“out in the barn to sleep,” he said, but Polly shook her head.
“No, keep him where you can watch ’im,” she cautioned. “There’ll be no sleeping for me while this unchristian business is afoot. Peter, what do you suppose the creature eats?”
“I ain’t studying about that”––Peter shook with nervous laughter––“but I’m going to chain Ginger up. I’ve heard these Chinese-ers lean to animals.”
“Nonsense, brother! But do you suppose the young woman what’s on her way here is a female Chinese?”
“The Lord knows!” Peter bristled. “I wish Northrup would fetch up and handle these items of his. My God! Polly, we have been real soft toward this young feller. Appearances and our dumb feelings about folks may have let us all in for some terrible results. Maclin’s keener than us, perhaps.”
“Now, brother”––Polly was bustling around––“this is no time to set my nerves on edge. Here we be; here all this mess is. We best hold tight.”