“Yes, and I think you should have given me a chance to communicate with him,” she followed up, making good use of the opportunity to assert her rights.
“No objection whatever,” replied the officer. “Cap, have you got a ’phone to North Birchland?”
Dorothy’s heart jumped! A telephone to the Cedars!
“Yep,” answered the stout man, disturbing himself reluctantly, and stepping inside to allow the others to enter.
“There you are miss,” said the constable, pointing to the telephone. “I don’t mind who you talk to or what you say now—I’ve got this girl safe here,” indicating Urania. “Some times a little girl can make more trouble than some one twice her size.”
Dorothy flew to the telephone. She was so eager to “get the Cedars” she could scarcely give the number correctly.
She waited—and waited.
“Trying to get your party,” came the answer to her ear from the central office.
How strange that they did not answer at once.