“I did not,” said Tommy.
“Yes, you did, and if you leave it to us, we’ll square it so you won’t get licked,” Herbert promised.
The stretcher men rose and bore the hero off toward the house, followed by the children, all except Isabelle. Her breath came in agonized gasps. As they disappeared she threw herself down on her face and let her nerves have full sway. She did not cry tears, but her body shook in a nervous storm of excitement, and misery. She did not hear the swift feet that approached, she scarcely heard Herbert’s embarrassed voice saying:
“Say, Isabelle, it’s all right. The chambermaid put him to bed and telephoned his mother to send him some clothes.”
She raised her tragic face to him.
“Will the police take me?” she whispered.
Without meaning to do so at all, Herbert dropped down beside her.
“You didn’t kill him. He’s all right,” he repeated.
Then as a nervous tremor shook her body, he patted her, awkwardly.