Buster entered in a rush.
"Ho, sir," he panted, "the 'ole parcel hof 'em his a-coming hup!"
"Hush!" said Moore. "This way, Sire."
Wales obeyed his host's instructions and vanished in the adjoining room, his manner still cool and unruffled.
"Buster, can you lose those rascals in a chase over the roofs?"
"Hi can, sir," replied the boy valiantly. "Hi 'll give 'em such a run has they reads habout hin their primers."
Moore tossed him an old hat and coat from the cupboard.
"The way is clear, lad," he said, peering out the window. "Out with you and when I whistle show yourself somewhere and then run like the devil. When you are tired, drop your hat and coat and you 'll be safe."
"Drop nothing," said Buster. "Hi knows too much to be guilty hof hany such shocking waste as that."
He hurried out of the window, landing on the roof below as lightly as any cat, as the sound of the approaching mob grew louder. There was but little time to spare, and Moore wasted none of it.