At last “Little Captain” got her own chance to speak and said:
“I’ve thought a way out. If this kind policeman—” the other girls shuddered—“if this kind policeman will either get a carriage, to take us to ‘Forty-niner’s,’ or will send for him to come to this station-house, it will be all right. My Ephraim will pay for us if there is anything to pay and will take us either to his flat or to Madame’s.”
The officer was not only willing to do this but it was his duty; but it was a very grave little group which waited in that big, bare room of the building while Ephraim was being summoned. Fortunately, the apartment he occupied was supplied with telephone fixtures, and he had been as charmed as a boy with the idea of talking over a wire with his “Little Captain,” whenever he felt inclined. So he promptly had the proper “connections” made and was now reached without difficulty or delay. Indeed, that “Hello!” was never more promptly answered than when it brought the information:
“There’s a girl in this station says you know her, Jessica Trent. She wants you to come and take her—wherever she belongs. There’s three of them.”
Ephraim sprang away from the instrument with a shriek.
“Do you hear that, Sophia Badger—Briggs? My little lass, she’s made herself into three Jessica Trents—and gone and got herself into the lock-up! Wasn’t it well I stayed behind with you? Didn’t travel back to Sobrante with the crowd? I knew it. I felt it in my bones my girl’d want me. She can’t do without her old Ephy, yet! Thank the Lord I’m here! Where’s my hat? I say, Sophia Badger, where’s my hat?”
In a state of wild excitement, the sharpshooter tore round and round the tiny rooms, into one and out of another, searching everywhere for an article he felt was necessary if he would make a respectable appearance at that dreadful police-station; but which he wouldn’t have delayed for, had not so much been at stake.
Poor Granny was equally flustered. She had learned to love Jessica almost as much as she did Sophy, and the very name of “station” held terror for her. So many, so very many of her old neighbors in Avenue A had journeyed to such a place and had not returned, having been forwarded to “the Island” for a longer stay.
It was impossible to connect innocent Jessie with any crime, yet what but crime could send a girl old enough to tell where she lived to such a place? So perturbed was she that she unconsciously thrust her spectacles up over her cap, the better to see, and thus discovered the missing object.
“Well, Ephraim Marsh! If we ain’t two old fools together! Your hat’s on your head and has been all the time. More shame to you, wearing it indoors so much, as you do.”