Dorothy sank into the carpet-seated chair at her side. She was discouraged now.
Miette waited as close to the door as she could “squeeze” without actually being on the outside of the sill.
Urania did not appear frightened now—she seemed ready to fight!
All the gypsy blood within her resented this “outrage,” and when she “resented” anything it was revenge that filled her heart. She would get even!
But what was one poor unfortunate girl to do when big burly officers of the law opposed her?
“I suppose I will have to go back to the station,” stammered Dorothy. “Have you no matron here?” she asked, suddenly realizing that “girl prisoners,” must be entitled to some consideration.
“Matron?” laughed the captain.
“Oh, I don’t know,” and the constable winked at his brother officer, “there might be a woman—Cap, couldn’t you—get some one?”
At this the two men held a whispered conversation, and presently the constable remarked:
“I’ve got to go back to North Birchland now, and if you two young ladies want to go I’ll take you along.”