With our luck it was out of the question to have anyone but Trainor answer the phone—and swing into high gear. Apparently Judge Thurlow had run for District One during the election and made it, giving up his own stamping grounds for some reason. It hardly seems possible that he'd do it just on the hope that we might decide to come home and set up shop. No man could be that vindictive, could he? Or are we still much too naive to be allowed out without a keeper? Who knows?
We do know that the group was followed by Trainor and another man at Thurlow's orders; and when they saw all of you meet at a certain tent in back of the midway all they had to do was sneak close enough to hear that there was exactly nothing going on! We were all so excited at seeing each other that their presence went unnoticed. Besides, what need to exercise caution when there wasn't an unfriendly face within miles?
When Trainor made his telephone call to get the permission to arrest us on the strength of another bench warrant Thurlow prepared in a hurry, his emotions penetrated our little circle; but not soon enough for everyone to get out safely. It all happened so suddenly that our lifelong control snapped. The persecution was so sneaking and so needless!
It didn't take long to dispose of the two deputies. Desperation again and thick anger. We lost no time in trussing them solidly and leaving them unconscious. After it was over, we realized what a deadly game it had suddenly become. We were in deep trouble again—deeper than any that had gone before. And we needed time, lots of it.
Take our word for it, Kitten, and stay underground during any time you and the others may teach. It's your duty to use care, because you certainly won't be able to advance your state of learning or help others while under detention. Keep in touch with the others. Your ranks will fill, if you can succeed undetected until it's time to come into the open.
Don't get into our fix; don't be forced into breaking the law. We didn't break it by teaching supposedly Satanic courses but by ignoring the restraining order, then by beating up the police and running. Running wasn't too bad in itself, but it made it tougher when in our shocked haste we took a car that didn't belong to us. Then, too, we shouldn't have taken it across the state line. That made it a federal offense. Even if the troopers get us, we shall first be guests of the FBI. Sweet mess, isn't it?
Lordy, this hay is dry. It's sweet smelling and comfortable lying here but it's dry and dusty. It'll be too bad if nature gives us away through a tickling nose. We can do without her tricks now.