“Danger from—from her bein'—er—hurt?” he suggested. “Being run over—or—or—drowned or somethin'?”
No, that was not it.
“Danger from somebody—some person?”
“Yes.” Another rustle of excitement in the circle. The light keeper caught his breath.
“Julia,” he demanded, “do you mean that—that our girl's in danger from some—some MAN?”
“FATHER! I won't stand this. It's perfectly—”
“Lulie Hallett, you set down! Set DOWN!”
Martha Phipps laid a hand upon the girl's arm. “Don't excite him,” she whispered. “I'd sit down if I were you, Lulie.”
Lulie, trembling with indignation, subsided under protest. Little Cherry Blossom burst out with a gush of gibberish concerning some man, “bad, wicked manee,” who was trying to influence “daughter” in some way or other, just how was not particularly intelligible. Captain Jethro offered another suggestion.
“Julia,” he demanded, “is it the outsider, the small, dark man you said afore? Is it him?”