The little company seemed to feel a kind of relief in submitting itself to Barbara’s direction. Each doing as she was bid, they started down the wood road, leaving the car with all their baggage behind them.
Miss Sallie had recovered her composure. The necessity of moving quickly, had taken her mind off the situation for the present, and she walked at as brisk a pace as did the girls.
Barbara had directed Mollie to walk a little in front and to keep a sharp lookout, while Bab brought up the rear and watched the sides of the road as vigilantly as a guard in war time, her pistol cocked, ready to defend and fight for her friends and sister to her last breath.
Presently curiosity got the better of Ruth.
“Bab,” she asked, “where on earth did you get that pistol?”
“From your father,” answered Bab. “That was the secret. Don’t you remember? But we must not risk talking now. The quieter we are the better. Voices carry in these woods.”
“You are quite right, Bab, dear,” replied Ruth, under her breath, and not another word was spoken.
Each one was engaged in her own thoughts as the silent procession moved swiftly on.
Miss Sallie was wondering whether they would ever see morning alive.
Grace, who was very devout, was praying softly to herself.