“Toby mustn’t go to prison,” declared Phoebe, with energy.
“Certainly not,” replied Mr. Spaythe. “The boy must regain the position in society to which he is fully entitled.”
“Can’t we do anything to Mrs. Ritchie?” she asked.
“We’ll try,” said the governor, looking at his watch. “Just now dinner is waiting at the Daring mansion and I promised Judith I’d not forget it. But this afternoon I’d like to drive over with you, Mr. Spaythe, to see the woman.”
“I will be glad to accompany you,” replied the banker. “We close at one o’clock on Saturday, you know; so at two, if you will be ready, I will call for you with my motor car.”
“That will be quite satisfactory,” said the governor, rising. Then he hesitated a moment. “May we take Phoebe with us?” he asked. “She has been so interested in this affair and has already accomplished so much in Toby’s behalf that I think she is entitled to be present at the climax.”
“I think so, too,” answered Mr. Spaythe readily. “Do you care to go, Phoebe?”
“Yes, if you please.”
Then she and Cousin John went home to dinner and the youngsters, who suspected something important was under way, were able to drag no information from their big sister beyond mysterious looks and sundry shakes of the head, which of course aroused their curiosity to the highest pitch.
“I think you might tell us, Phoebe,” pouted Sue, disconsolately. “I always tell you my secrets.”