You're safe as long
as you like to stay."
Craig nodded gratefully.
"All the same," he said, "I fear that I must go."
The Professor coughed.
"I am sure, Craig," he declared, "that you have decided wisely."
Craig looked gloomily away.
"There is nothing else for me to do," he said. "The child must be met and
looked after. Besides, I am sick of it all. You may as well know the
truth."
"Why not now?" Quest suggested softly.
"In New York," Craig replied, "and not before."
Quest and the Professor exchanged meaning glances.
"Very well," the former decided, turning away, "in a week from to-day,
Craig, I shall expect you to report at the Professor's house."
They left the room together. Long Jim lingered by Craig's side.
"Those guys have been scaring you some, I guess," he remarked. "Forget
'em, cookie. They can't touch you here. Of course, if you go to New York
it's your own show."
"I know that," Craig replied gloomily.
One of the girls passed her arm through Long Jim's.
"Just one dance," she whispered.
He hesitated, looking out of the window. Then he shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm tired of those guys," he remarked to Craig with a grin. "Guess I'll
stay here for a bit."
Craig was left alone for a few minutes. Suddenly Marta glided in and sat
by his side. Her eyes were flashing with anger.
"You know what they said, those two, as they passed out?" she whispered
hoarsely. "I heard them. They are going to board the eight-thirty train
to-morrow morning.
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