“Certainly not, m’am,” he replied.
John saw that protest was useless, but he gazed at the garlands with amazement.
“What on earth are you going to do, my dear?”
“Just a little trick of love,” was the laughing answer.
She wound the flowers around each handcuff, placed in John’s hand the enormous bouquet of roses, and not a trace of steel could be seen.
“You can carry them for me,” she said, hurrying on before him.
Stella passed suddenly through the jail door to the little brick landing of the steps on which Steve Hoyle stood to give his signal.
Steve started in surprise at her appearance, stammered and flushed, and a murmur of uncertainty ran through the crowd.
In a moment the traitor had recovered himself, and glancing at Stella with a sneer of triumph, he shouted to his henchmen:
“Say what you please, boys—don’t mind the ladies!”