“What are you going to do?” she managed to ask.

“Stay right here with you, my sisters, and in due time we’ll go ahead with our game as per previous specifications.”  He surveyed the high, paneled dining-room, sumptuous, distinguished even in the semi-dusk.  “Cozy little flat, eh, my dears?”

Suddenly that wide mouth of his slipped up to one side, and he laughed in exultant, impish glee.

“Say, isn’t this the funniest ever!  Beats my plan a mile.  We’ll make ourselves at home—­hang out together for the summer in Mrs. De Peyster’s own house,—­her own house,—­and when we hear she’s coming back we vacate and then do our little act of buying out the stores in Lady De Peyster’s name.  Was there ever such a lark!” For a moment his low laugh of wild glee cut off his speech.  “What’s more, it’s the safest place in the world for us.  Nobody’d ever think of our being here!”

Mrs. De Peyster stared at Matilda, Matilda stared at Mrs. De Peyster.

“And it’s just what I needed,” continued Mr. Pyecroft in amicable confidence.  “I just had a tip that the police were closing in on me, and I had to disappear quick.  An hour ago, I’d never have dreamed of falling into such a safe little retreat as this.  Luck favors the deserving.”

Mrs. De Peyster gazed at him, faint.

“And of course, Matilda,” he went on, “if, say, any of the neighbors happen to drop in for a cup of tea and see me, or if the police should manage to trail me here,—­and they may, you know,—­of course, Matilda, you’ll speak right up and say I’m your dear brother.”

At that moment it was beyond either of them to speak right up.

“Remember, my dears, that we’re all crooks together,” he prompted in a soft voice, that had a steely suggestion beneath it.  “And in case you fail to stand by me it would give me very great pain—­very great pain, I assure you—­to have to blow on you.”

Matilda gulped, blinked her eyes, and looked helplessly at Mrs. De Peyster.  Mr. Pyecroft turned to the latter.

“Of course, Angelica, dear, you’re going to stand by me?”

Mrs. De Peyster hesitated, then breathed a barely audible “Yes.”

“And you, Matilda, who were always my favorite sister, you, too, will stand by me?”

“Yes,” breathed Matilda.

“Ah,” said Mr. Pyecroft, in a moved tone, “such family loyalty is truly touching.  I foresee a most pleasant summer.”

CHAPTER XIII

THE HAPPY FAMILY

He nodded at the two with an air of deep fraternal affection.  And again he gazed with satisfaction about the spacious apartment, indicative of numberless other rooms of corresponding comfort.

His eyes came back to them.

“And now, Matilda, my dear,” he resumed, with his pleasant smile, “in the event we spoke of,—­neighbors or police dropping in, you know,—­in such a case I suppose I ought to be prepared with a correct history of myself.  To begin with, might I inquire what our name is?—­our family name, I mean.”