Bert pulled off his jacket as quick as a flash. In two minutes he was dressed in Miss Ray’s stylish garments.
“They are down at the door talking to the landlady,” whispered Dollie, who was listening at the key-hole. “Oh, I am sure they are coming up. Is he ready, Marion?”
Marion grabbed Bert’s jacket and cap and tucked them under the mattress, then she gave him some old gloves and drew his veil a little tighter.
“Take short steps and hold your dress up, just a little,” she whispered, “now, then, sum up all your courage and pass them without a look. I’ll detain them long enough to give you the start of them.”
Marion opened the door safely, and Bert slipped out into the hall. There were two men and the landlady on the flight before him.
“He’d come here, sure, if the gals air here,” said the well known voice of Matt Jenkins, the keeper of the Poor Farm.
“Waal, the gals air here all right,” was Silas Johnson’s answer, “an’ I allow they know where Bert is right enough. The question is, kin we make ’em tell us?”
“And what will you do with the boy if you catch him?” asked the landlady, anxiously.
“Take him back tew the Poor Farm, where he belongs,” said Matt Jenkins. “An’ yew bet I’ll lick him good fer puttin’ me tew all this trouble.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” thought Bert, as he started down the stairs.