“Frank's run off with No. 11, and he'll be killed sure. Thought I'd come up and tell you,” stammered Joe, all out of breath and looking wild.
He got no further, for Mrs. Pecq clapped one hand over his mouth, caught him by the collar with the other, and hustled him into the ante-room before any one else could hear the bad news.
“Tell me all about it, and don't shout. What's come to the boy?” she demanded, in a tone that reduced Joe to a whisper at once.
“Go right back and see what has happened to him, then come and tell me quietly. I'll wait for you here. I wouldn't have his mother startled for the world,” said the good soul, when she knew all.
“Oh, I dar'sn't! I opened the switch as they told me to, and Bill will half kill me when he knows it!” cried Joe, in a panic, as the awful consequences of his deed rose before him, showing both boys mortally injured and several trains wrecked.
“Then take yourself off home and hold your tongue. I'll watch the door, for I won't have any more ridiculous boys tearing in to disturb my lady.”
Mrs. Pecq often called this good neighbor “my lady” when speaking of her, for Mrs. Minot was a true gentlewoman, and much pleasanter to live with than the titled mistress had been.
Joe scudded away as if the constable was after him, and presently Frank was seen slowly approaching with an unusually sober face and a pair of very dirty hands.
“Thank heaven, he's safe!” and, softly opening the door, Mrs. Pecq actually hustled the young master into the ante-room as unceremoniously as she had hustled Joe.
“I beg pardon, but the parlor is full of company, and that fool of a Joe came roaring in with a cock-and-bull story that gave me quite a turn. What is it, Mr. Frank?” she asked eagerly, seeing that something was amiss.