"But now that they've gone, my girl," he continued, patting Susie on the shoulder, "I think it is best for you to leave town as soon as possible. The people may seek to vent their disappointment at Jesse's escape on his sister. I know the nature of the Springites all too well."
"But there's no train till night," protested Marjorie.
"True, but Susie can come to my office and—hark! What's that cry?"
From a dozen throats rose the shout:
"Seize the girls! We'll have them, anyhow! They helped Jesse to get away!"
"What did I tell you," muttered Lawyer Perkins, his face blanching at the sinister cry. "Come, there isn't a moment to lose. Helen, you won't be safe after summoning me. We'll go out by the front door while they're trying to get in here."
With an agility surprising in one of his years, the barrister sprang to the kitchen door, shut it and bolted it, then followed his frightened charges into the parlour.
Only a few stragglers were there in the front of the farmhouse, the rest of the crowd having swarmed into the yard in the wake of the man-hunters, and when they saw the girls and the barrister emerge from the front door they gave no heed, having been unable to patch the words of the latest shout.
Hurriedly crossing to the house opposite, the lawyer led his charges by a roundabout course, which showed surprising familiarity with the back-yards of his fellow citizens, to his own home and hastily secreted them in one of his chambers, telling them that he would arrange for their departure from the Springs as soon as it should be safe, then went out to mingle with the man-hunters and the excited populace again that he might keep in touch with any changes in the situation.