“Not at all,” said Tish. “I was to say ‘All is discovered,’ and——”
But he only groaned, and throwing off his apron and grabbing a hat, the next moment he had turned out the lights and the two of them ran out the front door. Tish and I remained in the darkness, too astonished to speak, until a sound outside brought us to our senses.
“Good heavens, Lizzie,” she cried. “They have taken the wagon—and Aggie’s in it!”
We ran outside, but it was too late to do anything. The horse was galloping wildly up the street, and after following it a block or two, we were obliged to desist. I leaned against a lamp-post and burst into tears, but Tish was made of stronger fiber. While others mourn, Tish acts, and in this case she acted at once.
As it happened, we were once more at Doctor Parkinson’s, and even as we stood there the doctor himself brought his car out of the garage, and leaving it at the curb, limped into his house for something he had forgotten. He was wearing a pair of loose bedroom slippers, and did not see us at first, but when he did he stopped.
“Still at large, are you?” he said in an unpleasant tone.
“Not through any fault of yours,” said Tish, glaring at him. “After your dastardly attack on us——”
“Attack!” he shouted. “Who’s limping, you or me? I’m going to lose two toenails, and possibly more. I warn you, whoever you are, I’ve told the police and they are on your track.”
“Then they are certainly traveling some,” said Tish coldly.
He then limped into the house, and Tish caught me by the arm.