"Going out through Broadway," said Viola. "We haven't been out for more than a week, and the moon will be nearly full to-morrow. It'll be perf'ly fine, Goat, won't it?"
"Veto!" said Grace, calmly.
"Veto? Why, what do you mean?"
"What's wrong?"
"What has happened?"
"Nothing has happened. Boots are no longer free, that's all."
"Do speak English, Grace Wolfe! What do you mean?"
"There—are—to—be—no more—free-booting expeditions—through Broadway. Is that sufficiently plain, or shall I spell the words?"
Blanche Haight rose to her feet, several of the other girls following her. "What is the matter with you to-night, Goat?" she said. "We don't seem to succeed in satisfying you. Aren't we good enough company for you, perhaps?" And Blanche sneered in her own particular manner, of which she was proud.
"I make no remarks," said the Scapegoat, in her quietest tones. "I have not been personal. I merely say, while I lead this Gang, there will be no more expeditions through Broadway."