“I didn’t punch you when you couldn’t defend yourself,” said Dickie indignantly.
“I’m the one to know. You gave it to me all right, and thereby settled your chances with her. Do you think I’d let a girl like her marry a chap like you? Why, you might come home and beat your wife! You’re capable of it. I refuse my consent absolutely. I shall advise her to have nothing whatever to do with you.”
Dickie couldn’t speak and Bob left him in a state of coma. This time Bob was suffered to leave the telephone booth. He was awfully glad they had the maniac-medico locked up. Maybe he would get a cute little room with a cunning little window, and maybe there’d be a landscape? But there wouldn’t be any flowers.
Just at this moment the temperamental little thing hurried up to Bob in a state of great agitation. He saw that something serious had happened.
CHAPTER XX—HAND-READING
“Did you get rid of it?” he asked hurriedly.
“I did not,” she gasped. “That mean old monocle-man wouldn’t let me. He’s just kept his eye on me every moment. When I went up-stairs, he followed. There he is now. See how he’s watching us. Oh, what shall I do, if they find me with it?”
“Give it to me,” said Bob.
“No, I won’t.”
“But do you realize what it means if they find it on you?” he asked in alarm.