"City folks is all right in their place," squeaked a thin little woman, one of the very few women in that crowd, "but if that kind is allowed to run wild over our quiet home towns, I say what is Bingham comin' to?" Queer noises without words gave answer.
The Wellingtons, with other followers, were now almost in front of the Town Hall, when the victim of this country prejudice espied Shirley.
"There is someone who knows me!" she cried out. "Ask that young lady and she'll tell you I'm a legitimate actress, and that I came out here to have room to practice!"
Shirley "ducked," as Judith put it, but Sally, more sympathetic, offered to interfere.
"Don't," begged Jane. "We were at this court only a short time ago. We don't want to wear out our welcome. Come along, girls; I, as junior, am responsible for getting you back on time. Come along."
"Yes," said Shirley bitterly. "Do come along, girls. That's about the way this lady left me when my horse threw me off on the hill. She was not anxious about me then and I guess she isn't as much in danger now as I was at that time," and when Officer Sandy piloted his charge in before the recorder, the doors were closed and the hearing was made private.
CHAPTER XXII
STARTLING DISCLOSURES
Once more Shirley had the center of the stage—a position she loved when it entailed the telling of a thrilling story. And at last the ghost story "was ripe," as Jane expressed it.
"Tell us," she demanded, without regard for the race to college during the telling, "who is that woman and what do you mean by calling her the ghost."