They had agreed that for Tim to go to Camp Lee and give himself up there would be the best plan; but after all, they were too late. As they finished breakfast, they were startled by a sudden loud bang upon their door. Their hands flew together and clutched fast for one moment across the table, then he rose and threw the door wide.
Two men in plain clothes burst in.
“Here, what’s your name?” the foremost demanded, a big swaggering man with the face of a bully.
“Timothy Bixby,” Tim answered steadily.
“Oh, it is, is it?” the man cried, a trifle taken aback. “This is your mornin’ for tellin’ the truth, ain’t it? Well, Mr. Timothy Bixby, I arrest you in the name of the law. See this?” He turned back his coat lapel, and displayed a sheriff’s badge. “We’re the dog catchers, an’ we’ve come for you—you damned yeller cur!”
“I was just fixin’ to go to Camp Lee an’ give up,” Tim said.
“Oh yes, you were,” the other jeered. “A hell of a lot you were!”
“But he was! It’s the truth, he was!” Julie broke in. “He was just gettin’ ready to go right this mornin’.”
“Oh, yes, he was, I know mighty well he was!” the other repeated. “An’ I know all about you, too!”
“But it’s true. Honest it is! Honest!” Julie pleaded desperately, turning helplessly to the other man, her eyes wide and sincere.