“Where did you hide it?” inquired aunt Corinne.
The toll-woman rose up and went to collect from a carriage at the door. The merry face of a girl in the carriage peeped through the house, and some pleasant jokes were exchanged.
“That's the daughter of the biggest stock man around here,” said the toll-woman, returning, and passing over aunt Corinne's question. “She goes to college, but it don't make a simpleton of her. She always has a smile and a pleasant word. Her folks are real good friends of mine. They knew our folks in Ohio.”
“And did he come right in and grab you?” urged Bobaday, keeping to the main narrative.
“I was that scared for a minute,” resumed the toll-woman, “that I hadn't any strength. The middle door never is locked. I leave it on the latch like, so I can hear wheels better. What to do I didn't know, but a body thinks fast at such times. First thing I knew I was on the back doorstep, hookin' the door on the outside. Then a gust of wind like, came around the corner of the house, and voices came with it, and I felt sure there were more men waitin' there to ketch me, if I tried to run.”
CHAPTER XXV. ROBBERS.
It was a light night, but the new moon looked just like it was blowed through the sky by the high wind. I noticed that, because I remembered it afterwards.
“Now I was outside, I didn't know which way to turn. If I run to either side, there were the men, and if I took toward the pig-pen they'd see me. And they'd be comin' around and 'd ketch me where I was.”
“What did you do?” exclaimed aunt Corinne, preserving a rigid attitude.