“Nearly ten.”
“We shall have a long wait, but we mustn’t mind that. Let us go, now.”
Phil waited until she reached the door; then he put out the lights and joined her. As they passed out he locked the door and put the key away in his pocket.
“What now?” he asked.
“Let us take a walk up the street, for a block or two,” she replied, in a whisper; and he followed her obediently. Although it was Saturday night, this part of the town was practically deserted. There was a light in the laundry office across the way and a girl stood in the door of a candy shop and nodded to the twins vacantly. Half a block up the street was the printing office, but the lights in it went out before they reached it, and Mr. Fellows, the editor, gave the Darings a pleasant “Good night!” as they passed by while he was locking the door.
Phœbe crossed over into the next street, which was merely a lane, and turning about began to retrace her steps. Phil clung to her arm and let her lead him. Here there was no light to guide them save the dim glow of the stars. The moon would not be up for some hours yet. They had to feel their way carefully for a time, but ere long they had reached a position in the rear of the bank and entered the unused yard. From a pile of boxes dumped behind a neighboring grocery Phil brought two to serve as seats, for now he guessed Phœbe’s purpose and fully approved the venturesome undertaking.
They sat in silence for a time, their backs against the brick wall of the bank.
“How will Eric get back from Canton?” the girl inquired, musingly.
“I don’t know. He might drive over, and return the same way. Let me see; there’s another train to St. Louis that passes here at one-thirty. It doesn’t stop at Riverdale, but it does at Canton.”
“That’s it!” she exclaimed, eagerly. “That’s his plan, Phil, I’m sure. Eric will get a livery horse at Canton, drive over here, and return in time to catch the one-thirty flyer for St. Louis. It will be due at Canton at about two o’clock, won’t it?”