"
"Hang 'em!" growled Joe. "We can't stop now. Open up the church, Jim."
"Can't. Lost my key. Is this Miss Thursdale? Glad to meet you. The
window's the only way and they're surely watching back there."
"Mamma has sent the officers after us," wailed Eleanor.
"Let's go home," said the waiter. "I didn't agree to stay out all
night."
"Agree? Aha, I see. You are a spy!" cried Joe.
"A spy? I guess not. I'm a witness."
"It's the same thing," cackled Mr. Van Truder. "You're a spy witness."
"Joe, isn't this fellow your witness?" demanded Carpenter.
"I should say not. Mr. Van Truder is mine."
"By George, I don't understand--"
"Never mind, Jim, break into the church and let's have it over with.
It's going to rain again."
"Oh, I'm so tired," moaned the poor bride, mud-spattered, wet, and
very far from being the spick and span young woman that fashionable
society knew and loved.
"By Jove!" came suddenly from the darkness, startling the entire
party--a masculine voice full of surprise and--yes, consternation.
Then there strode into the circle of light a tall figure in a
shimmering mackintosh, closely followed by a young, resolute woman.
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