“You had better get out right away. There are some scrappers here, and you wouldn’t stand a ghost of a show if they spotted you, and tried to lay you out.”
“You must go with me, when I go, Miss Blaney.”
“I must? What for?”
“Your mother is in St. Jo. searching for you.”
“My mother?” cried the girl, astounded. “Oh, come off your perch! What are you giving me?”
“The truth. I met her a short time ago. She is nearly crazy, and she’s wandering up and down the streets to-night, searching for you, stopping every man and asking if he has seen you. She stopped me, and that was how I knew she was here.”
The girl turned pale for all of the paint on her cheeks.
“Heavens!” she gasped. “I didn’t think for a minute she would do such a thing! My mother wandering about the streets of this city to-night! It’s awful!”
“Here’s yer drinks,” said the waiter, as he placed the glasses before them.
“I don’t want anything more,” said the girl, rising.