A uniformed policeman was waiting for Linda in the lobby. He was a rough, uneducated person of the lower class, evidently accustomed to bullying his suspects into submission. He did not return Linda’s feeble “Good morning,” but merely extended a piece of paper with his right hand.
“Your bum check!” he snarled. “For bail. You had no right to sign the name of ‘Linda Carlton’ anyhow, but besides that, there ain’t no funds to cover it—even if you say you are the real ‘Linda’.”
“No funds!” gasped Linda, staring incredulously at the man. “Why, I keep five thousand dollars in my check account—just to be ready for any kind of emergencies that may come up when I’m flying about the country!”
“That’s just the amount that was took out yesterday. By the real Linda Carlton.” His tone was jeering, as if he were enjoying the situation as he would a play.
“Oh!” cried Linda. “This is terrible!”
“I’ll say it is,” agreed the policeman. “Now get your hat, and come along with me. You’re goin’ to jail.”
The girls looked at each other in speechless amazement. This was too dreadful for words.
“Let me wire for the money,” suggested Dot, suddenly. “I can get it from my father.”
“Do as you like. But this here forger goes to jail—even if she is a pretty girl. That ain’t a gonna help her none now!”
“Oh!”