“That need not worry you,” she observed. “Why don’t you give it up, Phil? Be content until the time comes when I can tell you everything. It’s the best way. Can’t you trust me—Phœbe—your twin?”
He caught her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, while the first sense of freedom he had experienced since the robbery swept over him.
“Trust you? Of course I can, my darling!” he said.
CHAPTER XIX
THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR
Phil had a restless night; but he slept a little, nevertheless. His chief source of worry had been removed by his sister’s mysterious action, yet the wonderment of it all remained, carrying with it an intense excitement whenever he thought of the probable outcome of this strange adventure.
On Monday morning he was up bright and early, anxiously awaiting the time to go to work. Phœbe, looking at him with wistful eyes, kissed her brother good-by and said:
“Good luck, Phil. Whatever happens, remember that I, and all who love you, will stand by you to the end.”
But nothing exceptional happened at the bank.
Mr. Boothe, looking a little more pale and worn than usual, arrived at the same time Phil did, and while he was carrying the cash from the safe to his cage, preparatory to counting it, Eric sauntered in and took his seat at the desk.