“Yes, but it wouldn’t be safe. They might—might connect us with his escape. Why, even now they may be watching the building! Come on, but don’t walk too fast. Try to look careless, Perry.”
So, looking careless, they reached the corner, but there, to Perry’s surprise, Fudge seized him by the arm and dragged him on. “We’ve got to throw them off the track,” he muttered. “They may follow us.”
Silently they proceeded another block and then, when Fudge had turned quickly and glanced back along G Street, they slipped around the corner, cut through a yard and climbed a fence, dodged past a house and finally gained Troutman Street.
“There,” said Fudge, with satisfaction, “I guess we’ve thrown them off all right.” He stopped a moment, made a silent investigation and added darkly: “I hope they tear their pants on that fence the way I did!”
“It must be awfully late,” said Perry. “I guess I’ll go back this way; it’s shorter.”
“Better not,” warned Fudge. “Come on to F Street. They might see you.”
“I hope,” mused Perry as they went on down the block, “I hope he will try to reform, Fudge. He doesn’t seem what you’d call a hardened criminal, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t. I guess there’s a lot of good in him, Perry. I dare say he will get away safely and go back out West and settle down just like you or me.”
“I do hope so.” Perry sighed. “I liked him a lot, Fudge.”
“Me, too. I wish he wasn’t a criminal, that’s what I wish. And, oh, shucks, now he can’t do that drawing! I’ll have to tell Dick that he left town unexpectedly. Say, let’s do something to-night, Perry. Think your folks’ll let you go to the movies?”