Gusta, in the great love she had for Archie, felt an instant desire to go to him, but when she mentioned this, her father turned on her so fiercely that she did not dare mention it again. On Monday morning, when her work was done, Gusta, dressing herself in the clothes she had not often had occasion to wear during the winter, stole out of the house and went down town,--a disobedience in which she was abetted by her mother. Half an hour later Gusta was standing bewildered in the main entrance of the Market Place Police Station. The wide hall was vacant, the old and faded signs on the walls, bearing in English and in German instructions for police-court witnesses, could not aid her. From all over the building she heard noises of various activities,--the hum of the police court, the sound of voices, from some near-by room a laugh. She went on and presently found an open door, and within she saw several officers in uniform, with handsome badges on their breasts and stars on the velvet collars of their coats. As she hesitated before this door, a policeman noticed her, and his coarse face lighted up with a suggestive expression as he studied the curves of her figure. He planted himself directly in front of her, his big figure blocking the way.
"I'd like to speak to my brother, if I can," said Gusta. "He's arrested."
She colored and her eyes fell. The policeman's eyes gleamed.
"What's his name, Miss?" he asked.
"Archie Koerner."
"What's he in fer?"
"I can't tell you, sir."
The policeman looked at her boldly, and then he took her round arm in his big hand and turned her toward the open door.
"Inspector," he said, "this girl wants to see her brother. What's his name?" he asked again, turning to Gusta.
"Koerner, sir," said Gusta, speaking to the scowling inspector, "Archie Koerner."