Jason burst into a fit of laughter. “Come, that is fine. You and I, Kitty, aiders and abettors of an incendiary. Is he clear off now?”
“Yes; but here comes uncle up the steep side.”
Jason hobbled to the edge of the rock, and, leaning over called, “Halloo, Pasco! Here we are waiting for you—Kitty Alone and I.”
CHAPTER XXIII
BORROWING
“It is you—you two!” exclaimed Pepperill, as he reached the summit. He gasped the words; he could not shout, so short of breath was he. His face with heat was purple as a blackberry. “What’s the meaning of this?” He held to a projection of granite, and panted. “Interfering with law—protecting a scoundrel.” He paused to wipe his face. “A malefactor—a criminal—guilty”—again gasped like a fish out of water—"guilty of incendiarism, of arson, of felony!"
“Why, Pasco, you’re hot. Keep cool, old boy,” said Jason, laughing. “Who has created you constable, or sheriff of the county, that you are so anxious to apprehend rogues?”
“Rogues? rogues? Only rogues assist rogues in escaping the reward of their deeds.”
“Is there a warrant out for his apprehension?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what on earth makes you put yourself in a heat and commotion to catch him?”