It was half an hour later when she came out to the anxious twins on the verandah.
“He’s asleep,” she said. “We have fixed him up comfortably, and I hope he’ll sleep all night; Father means to camp near his room. Poor fellow—he’s only a boy! But we must tell the police, twinses dear; Father says there’s no help for it. We’ll get the doctor in the morning and let the police know.”
The twins sighed heavily.
“I suppose it’s got to be,” Jean said. “It’s hard: but I don’t think he can have a wife and children, as I was afraid he had—he’s too young.”
“He certainly is,” said Mrs. Weston, smiling.
“And, perhaps, after he’s served his sentence he’ll be a reformed character, and Father will give him a job.”
“And he’ll marry Sarah!” finished Billy, who, with Rex, had been hugely interested in the prisoner.
“And meanwhile, we’ll look out for our valuables!” said Mr. Weston, who had come out, unperceived—darkness had fallen suddenly. “Sorry, twinses, when he’s your pet criminal—but really, it’s as well to be careful. However, he’s helpless enough to-night, poor wretch!”
“I’m thankful he’s out of that horrid little hut,” Jo said. “We were awfully keen on taking care of him; but the job got a bit too big for us. Of course, in books, he’d get better and escape in the night, leaving a note of thanks on the pin-cushion!”
“And taking the spoons with him!” finished her father, callously. “No, he won’t do any escaping: his head and his ankle will see to that.” He drew a long breath. “My word, isn’t it hot! Are you all right, Mary? I can hardly see you, it’s so dark—but you’re very quiet.”