He'd be walking into the lion's mouth--" Bunting laughed.
And then Daisy broke in coquettishly: "If I'd done anything I wouldn't mind going for help to Mr.Chandler," she said.
And Joe, with eyes kindling, cried, "No.

And if you did you needn't be afraid I'd give you up, Miss Daisy!" And then, to their amazement, there suddenly broke from Mrs.Bunting, sitting with bowed head over the table, an exclamation of impatience and anger, and, it seemed to those listening, of pain.
"Why, Ellen, don't you feel well ?" asked Bunting quickly.
"Just a spasm, a sharp stitch in my side, like," answered the poor woman heavily.

"It's over now.

Don't mind me." "But I don't believe--no, that I don't--that there's anybody in the world who knows who The Avenger is," went on Chandler quickly.
"It stands to reason that anybody'd give him up--in their own interest, if not in anyone else's.

Who'd shelter such a creature?
Why, 'twould be dangerous to have him in the house along with one!" "Then it's your idea that he's not responsible for the wicked things he does ?" Mrs.Bunting raised her head, and looked over at Chandler with eager, anxious eyes.
"I'd be sorry to think he wasn't responsible enough to hang!" said Chandler deliberately.