Pen clasped her hands in a sort of despair. Another obstinate man to be argued with! "They could! They could!" she cried. "You don't understand. I couldn't bring the paper to you because it would have been missed. But you must read it later. Then you'll see. My father is just like other men. They all seem to act in a herd. They have made up their minds that you did it. They are determined you sha'n't escape. Your trial would be a mockery."
He was impressed by her earnestness. "Just the same ... I couldn't run," he said slowly.
"You mustn't do anything on impulse," Pen urged. "You must read the newspaper and find out where you stand. You must give yourself up if you so decide, but not allow yourself to be caught."
He seemed to be convinced, but he did not take the matter seriously enough to suit Pen. He seemed to be thinking more of her than of his own situation. He took a step nearer to her.
"How fine of you to come to warn me!" he said warmly.
Pen retreated into deeper water. "Please!" she said sharply. "There is not an instant to lose!"
"But if I've got to go ... I must thank you," he said.
It was not part of Pen's plan to let him go, but not wishing to provoke another argument, she let the words pass for the moment.
"Anyhow, come out of the water," he pleaded. "Your feet must be chilled through."
He put down a paddle at the edge of the water and Pen stepped out on it. He looked at her longingly.