oy, and it
seemed as if that would not be very much. But he was her only hope, and
she decided to trust him.

"Jack," she said, soberly, "that is my friend, and I've been looking for
her. And that old man isn't her father at all. He wants to make her do
something horrid--something she doesn't want to do at all. And if she
doesn't get away, I'm afraid he will, too."

"Say, I didn't like him when I first saw him! I'd hate to have him for
a pop. Why doesn't she run away?"

"How can she, Jack?"

"Huh, that's just as easy! Why, I never go down the stairs at all,
hardly, from my room. The branches of that big tree stick right over to
the window, and it's awful easy to climb down."

"She could do that, too, Jack, but she doesn't know I'm here to help
her. She'd think there wasn't any use getting down."

"Say, I'll climb up and tell her, if you like. Shall I?"

"Will you, really, Jack? And tell her Bessie is waiting here for her?
Will you show her how to get down, and how to get here? And don't you
think someone will see her?"

"No, an' if they do, they can't catch us. I've got a cave back here
that's the peachiest hiding-place you ever saw! I'll show you. They'll
never find you there. You just wait!"

He was off like a flash, and Bessie, terribly anxious, but hopeful, too,
saw him run up the tree like a squirrel. Then the branches hid him from
her, and she couldn't see what happened at the window. But before she
had waited more than two minutes, although it seemed like hours to poor
Bessie, Jack was in sight again, and behind him came Zara. She dropped
easily to the ground, and ran toward Bessie, behind Jack, like a scared
rabbit.

"Oh, Bessie, I'm so glad--so glad!" she cried. "I was so frightened--"

From the inn there was a shout of anger.

"Gee! He's found out already," cried Jack. "Come on! Don't be scared!
I'll show you where to hide so he'll never find you. Run--run, just as
fast as you can!"

And they were off, while Farmer Weeks shouted behind them.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SHELTER OF THE WOODS

For the first few minutes as they ran, the three of them were too busy
to talk, and they needed their breath too much to be anxious to say
anything. Jack, his little legs flying, covered ground at an astonishing
pace. Zara had always been a speedy runner, and now, clutching Bessie's
hand tightly, she helped her over some of the harder places.

They were running right into the woods, as it seemed to Bess