At noon the sun’s rays were exceedingly warm. Miss Campbell, with Nancy and Elinor, withdrew under a distant tree, with steamer rugs, and soon were sleeping soundly.
“How long before you’ve finished, Miss?” asked Barney of Billie. He had been their faithful guard all morning.
“In half an hour at the very least,” she had replied, and leaping on his small, swift horse, he cantered away, calling out:
“I’ll be back against the time you’ve finished.”
Billie was out under the car, absorbed in her work. The whole world seemed to be asleep in the stillness of noon. Mary looked about her fearfully. Then, with sudden resolution, she took a little silver penknife from her pocket and tiptoeing over to where the prisoner lay, bound and shackled, she quickly cut the twine.
“Don’t say anything,” she whispered to the astonished youth. “I don’t believe a word about your being a thief, and some day they will find out that they were mistaken, too. Once I was accused like that, and I know how you must feel. Hurry up, now, and go to the East, because Barney is riding the other way. Perhaps a wagon will pick you up.”
Peter Van Vechten seized her hand warmly in his.
“You’re a little brick,” he whispered.
“Take the cords with you,” she answered. “Then they won’t know.”
Another moment and he had made off down the road, and Mary went quietly back to her work.