The youth shrugged. "Well, I dunno. I sent word to a girl who—"
At that moment the attendant appeared again. He had come after the youth—evidently the girl had proved herself.
"So long," the boy said to Fred, as he went through the door. "If you've got a dame stuck on you there's always a chance."
Fred went over and leaned against the washbasin. His companions had been diverting. In their company he had ceased to think very definitely about his own plight. Now he was alone. He wondered what Helen would do… He put his hand to his cheek—it was still smarting from the blow that had waked his primitive hatred…
He was standing in this same position before the washbasin, smoking furiously, when the attendant came for him.
"It's past midnight," the man said. "I guess your folks ain't coming."
Fred stirred. "No, I guess not," he echoed, with resignation.
The officer took his arm. "Well, we'll have to get fixed up for the night," he announced.
Fred threw his cigarette butt on the floor and stepped on it.
* * * * *