First she made her way to Fourth and Walnut Streets, and then she started off in the direction taken by a Walnut Hills car.
She was forced to ask directions several times before she got very far, but nevertheless she made fair progress. She was just congratulating herself upon her good fortune in getting out of so serious a predicament so easily, when something else happened.
Around the corner, suddenly, came a crowd of boys, their ages ranging from twelve to fifteen. This part of the city was by no means the best, and Shirley thanked her stars that she was attired in boy’s clothes.
But her attire was not to stand her in good stead now.
The crowd of boys came on at a run, and when directly in front of Shirley the leaders stopped.
“Look here, fellows,” said one of them. “Here is a poor kid all by himself. He looks big enough to fight. Shall we take him along?”
“Sure,” came from the rest.
The boy who had first spoken grabbed Shirley by the arm, and shook him.
“Can you fight?” he asked.
Shirley again was almost in tears.