Like a flash the officer was after his quarry, giving three short raps on the sidewalk with his night-stick as he ran, to summon assistance.
Marion explained the situation to a small crowd of men and boys who had gathered, and they promptly started off to help the policeman.
As quickly as possible Marion hurried home and retired. The first thing in the morning she went out and bought a paper.
“They caught him! They caught Emile Vorse!” she cried out, happily, “but, oh, Dollie, just listen to this. They say he has been calling himself by the name of Max, and that he has been decoying young girls to ruin through an agency of some sort.”
“The very man that insulted me in his office,” cried Dollie, with a gasp. “His name was Mr. Max, oh, I am so glad they have caught him.”
“Miss Ray will be delighted,” was Marion’s answer, “for she has never felt quite safe, knowing that the fellow was at liberty.”
“Well, it’s a very true saying that ‘it is a long lane that has no turning.’”
“I hope our lane will turn pretty soon,” said Dollie, sighing.
Just then Marion’s glance fell on another item in the paper.
“That boy that was run over by the cable car was not identified,” she said, sadly. “He had no friends, apparently, for he has been buried by the city.”