Take the lines in through the door!" He brushed the rejoicing friends off abruptly, and went on in a queer, hollow voice: "There are stairs--and I'm so sorry I didn't think of it until a moment ago, because you could have brought the water up that way!" A remarkable case of desertion had occurred, the previous instant, under his eyes.

As the party emerged from the warehouse into the street, Tom heard Crailey say hurriedly to Miss Carewe: "Let me get you away come quickly!" saw him suddenly seize her band, and, eluding the onrushing crowd, run with her round the corner of the building.

And somehow, through what inspiration, or through what knowledge of his partner's "temperament," heaven knows, the prophetic soul of the chief was unhappily assured that Crailey would offer himself as escort to her home, and find acceptance.

But why not?
Was it Crailey who had publicly called his fellow-man fool, idiot, imbecile, at the top of his lungs, only to find himself the proven numskull of the universe! Tom stood for a moment staring after the vanishing pair, while over his face stole the strangest expression that ever man saw there; then, with meekly bowed shoulders, he turned again to his work.
At the corner of the warehouse, Miss Carewe detached her hand from Crailey's, yet still followed him as he made a quick detour round the next building.

A minute or two later they found themselves, undetected, upon Main Street in the rear of the crowd.