“You've seen Polly?” asked Douglas, shaking Jim cordially by the hand.
“Yes, I've seen her.”
“The deacon here has an idea that Polly is going back to the circus with you.” He nodded toward Strong, almost laughing at the surprise in store for him.
“Back to the circus?” asked Jim.
“Did she say anything to you about it?” He was worried by the bewilderment in Jim's manner.
Before Jim could reply, Polly, who had reached the steps in time to catch the last few words, slipped quickly between them. She wore her coat and hat, and carried a small brown satchel.
“Of course I did, didn't I, Jim?” she said, turning her back upon the pastor and motioning to Jim not to answer. Douglas gazed at her in astonishment.
“What do you mean?” he asked in a hoarse, strained voice. He glanced at the coat and hat. “Where are you going?”
Polly avoided his eyes and continued nervously to Jim.
“What made you come back? Why didn't you wait for me down the street? Now, you've spoiled everything.” She pretended to be very vexed with him. The big fellow looked puzzled. He tried to protest, but she put a warning finger to her lips and pressed the little brown satchel into his hand. “It's no use,” she went on hurriedly. “We might as well tell them everything now.” She turned to Douglas and pretended to laugh. “You have found us out.”