“It’s hard to believe he’s a criminal; he looks such a boy,” Jean said, as they hurried home. “Oh, I do hope the police won’t come this way. I feel as if I’d do anything to keep him out of their clutches!”
“So do I,” Jo said. “After all, the police have so many criminals that they could easily spare one! And if he gets a chance now he may live a good life for ever after. But I do wonder, Jean, if he oughtn’t to have a doctor.”
“But that means the police!” Jean cried. “Dr. Lawrence never could visit him without letting the police know.” She thought a moment. “I’ll tell you what, Jo: we’ll see how he is this evening, and if he’s not better we’ll get Sarah to see him. She’s as good as a doctor, and we could swear her to secrecy.” The phrase struck her with a pleasant flavour of conspiracy and mystery: she repeated it to herself, ending with a little chuckle.
“It really is fun, Jo! To think of the police scouring the country for that poor fellow, and you and I have him planted in that hut! Don’t you wish we could tell them at school!”
“Rather!” Jo agreed. “Wouldn’t there be excitement! By the way, I wonder if we’re likely to get into a jolly row!”
“Well, there’s a pretty good chance, I suppose,” Jean said. “But it’s worth it. Goodness me, Jo, there’s Father!”
Mr. Weston, in riding-breeches and shirt, was in full view, going to the house-paddock, a bridle over his arm. The twins ducked guiltily behind a bush, waiting until a high fence hid him; then they rose and bolted to the garden, and climbed over its pittosporum hedge with the kindly aid of an overhanging pepper-tree. They gained the house without being seen—it was only a little after five o’clock; and were soon hard at work. Presently Sarah appeared.
“Tea’s ready,” she informed them. “Yes, it’s early, but the Master’s wanting breakfast; he’s off to Reedy Creek, after some sheep. I thought you would ’ave your tea in the dining-room with ’im an’ see that he eats somethin’; there was mighty little eaten in this ’ouse yesterday!”
“Too hot to eat, Sarah,” said Jo.
“Too ’ot not to eat,” responded Sarah. “People’s gotter keep up their strength in weather like this. Just you go an’ bully the Master, now: he told me to give ’im just some bre’n’butter, but I’ve done ’im some bacon the way ’e likes it. You two go an’ be firm with ’im.”