“Come along,” said the impassive Stoliker, taking the handcuffs from his pocket.
“If you three men,” continued Mrs. Bartlett, “cannot take those two to camp, or to jail, or anywhere else, without handcuffing them, I’ll go along with you myself and protect you, and see that they don’t escape. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sam Stoliker, if you have any manhood about you—which I doubt.”
“I must do my duty.”
The professor rose from his chair. “Mr. Stoliker,” he said with determination, “my friend and myself will go with you quietly. We will make no attempt to escape, as we have done nothing to make us fear investigation. But I give you fair warning that if you attempt to put a handcuff on my wrist again I will smash you.”
A cry of terror from one of the girls, at the prospect of a fight, caused the professor to realize where he was. He turned to them and said in a contrite voice:
“Oh! I forgot you were here. I sincerely beg your pardon.”
Margaret, with blazing eyes, cried:
“Don’t beg my pardon, but—smash him.”
Then a consciousness of what she had said overcame her, and the excited girl hid her blushing face on her friend’s shoulder, while Kitty lovingly stroked her dark, tangled hair.
Renmark took a step toward them, and stopped. Yates, with his usual quickness, came to the rescue, and his cheery voice relieved the tension of the situation.