You surely won't expose
these women and the child any further!"
"But, Father," broke in one of the women, tremulously, "if we leave,
it will take one of your two fighting men to run the car. Think how
weak that will leave your defense."
"You forget, my dear," spoke Mr. Dunlop, gently, "that our newly-found
young friends have just sent for other men."
Tom smiled grimly as he thought of Jim Ferrers's "crowd"---consisting
of poor, frighten little Alf with the cigarette-stained fingers.
"At any cost or risk, sir," Tom went on, after a moment, "you must
get the women and the child away from here. But---why, where is
the child?"
There was an instant of dismay. The little girl had vanished.
"Gladys!" spoke Dr. Dunlop's daughter in alarm.
From under one of the cars a muffled voice answered, "Here I am."
Then Gladys, sobbing and shaking, emerged into view.
"I was so frightened!" cried the child. "I just had to hide."
"The men have gone away, dear," explained her mother soothingly.
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