"Innocent little things!" he sneered, sarcastically. "Rats! What's the use of wasting time? Come on!"
"Won't you even listen to our story?" begged Linda.
"You can save it for the judge! We've got a couple of horses out here, and we're each taking one of you along. Get your coats on—and hustle!"
Meekly Linda did as she was told, biting her lips to keep back the tears, but Louise was furiously angry.
"You just wait!" she sputtered. "You'll make a public apology for this, when our fathers hear about it."
"Listen to the little spit-fire!" drawled the sergeant, in a nasty tone. Then, turning to the other man, "Listen, Marshall, I don't think we better try to take these two girls on our horses—especially this little cat here." He pointed rudely at Louise. "She might scratch! And it's none too easy traveling in this kind of weather.... Their trial won't come up for a month or so, anyway, so we might as well lock 'em in here as anywhere till we see fit to get 'em. You don't need the cabin, do you?"
"No, I can go over with Hendries."
"Well, the windows are barred. Besides, if they tried to escape, they would only get lost, and freeze or starve to death. Suppose we leave 'em here to think over their crime, and maybe after a few days or so, they'll be more ready to confess."
"But we have to wire our folks!" cried Linda, in dismay.
"You ought to have thought of that before you tried your tricks. If it's your father you're working for, he knows what to expect. Smuggling's serious business, young woman!"