“What does it all mean?” she asked the woman, thinking it wiser not to show her indignation at first.
“Don’t ask me, miss, I don’t know,” the woman returned.
“That’s right, miss,” Pike broke in; “my wife don’t know anything about it all,—and neither do I. We’re paid tools,—that’s all we are. Now, there’s the matter in a nutshell. We’re paid to look after you good and proper. We’ll do it, too, and if you let us, we’ll be kind and gentle with you. But if you force us to it, we may have to use stronger means. I’d be sorry to lay a hand on you, miss, and I hope to goodness you won’t make it necessary,—but I’ll say straight out, you’ve got to obey our orders.”
“I’ve no objection, so long as you’re merely taking care of me, as you say,” Elsie returned, coolly. She felt a conviction that her best plan with these people was to placate them all in all possible ways.
It could do no good to combat them, and might do great harm.
“Who pays you?” she asked, so casually, she hoped for an answer.
“We’re forbidden to tell,” Pike said, simply. “And, you must see, miss, questions will not get you anywhere, for we’re paid to keep our mouths shut, so it stands to reason we’re going to do it.”
“Of course,” Elsie agreed. “But suppose I pay you better, far better than your present paymaster?”
The woman looked up quickly, her small black eyes shining with cupidity, but Pike said in a voice that rang with truth:
“I wouldn’t dare, miss. I wouldn’t dare even listen to you!”