'Quick—think of something to tell him! It'll have to be a lie. Henry—think!'
Then, as he stood motionless, helpless, she got up, thrust his hat and bamboo stick into his hands, and led him on tiptoe around the corner of the house.
'We've got to do something. Henry, for goodness' sake—'
'We've got to find her, I think.'
'I know it. But——'
'If she came in with Hump, and he—you know, this time' of night—why, something awful might happen. There might be murder. Mr Henderson——'
'Don't talk such stuff! Keep your head. Well—he's coming! Here!'
She gripped his hand, dragged him down the side steps, and ran lightly with him out past the woodshed to the alley. They walked to the side street and, keeping in the shadows, out to the Chestnut Avenue corner. From this spot they commanded the house.
Mr Henderson had switched on lights in front hall, dining-room, and kitchen. The parlour was still dark. Next he had gone upstairs, for there were lights in the upper windows. After a brief time he appeared in the front doorway. He lighted a fresh cigar, then opened the screen door and came out on the porch. He stood there, looking up and down the street. Then he seated himself on the top step, elbows on knees, like a man thinking.
'Henry!'