“N-o,” she stammered, while the blood in her cheeks burned through Dorothy’s clever make-up.
“H’m!” he asked again, pressing nearer the frightened girl.
Dorothy was stunned—bewildered! Surely he must know. She could not say that this was Tavia Travers, in fact, to tell the untruth did not occur to her—he would be able to see through that if he had penetrated the disguise.
The train was whistling for a stop at Beechville. Here they must change cars—oh, if only he would get off there and go away, then, perhaps, some one would help her!
Miette, quick to discern the change in Dorothy, looked on, trembling with fear. Perhaps the man had been sent out by her aunt—perhaps he would take her, too, as well as Urania! She had suffered so many strange experiences, that now she dreaded and feared everything!
“We all change cars here,” coolly said the man. “I guess I had better take you little girls in hand—you need not be afraid. I’m a regular officer, and I will take good care of you.”
“Oh!” screamed Urania, “I will not go! I won’t be arrested!”
“Hush!” exclaimed Dorothy, “You are not going to be arrested, but you must be quiet or they may think we—think something is wrong. Sir,” she said, looking up at the big man with the slouch hat, “I will not go with you unless I know who you are.”
“That’s easy settled,” he replied, pulling back his coat and displaying a badge, “I’m head constable of North Birchland.”
“And what do you want of us?” asked Dorothy, bravely.