“Come on!” whispered Dorothy. “Don’t let him speak.”
But it was too late to escape that. “Little ladies!” exclaimed the man. “You’re not going to run away from me, are you?”
Tavia would have run; only, as she confessed to Dorothy later, her skirt “was not built that way.” Now, however, Dorothy had to face the man.
“What do you want?” she asked, just as sternly as she could speak.
“Oh, now, little lady,” began the fellow, “you mustn’t be angry.”
Dorothy turned her back and seized Tavia’s arm. “Come on,” she said, with much more confidence in her voice than she actually felt.
“Ned and Nat will soon be along. Come!”
The girls began walking briskly. “Is—is he going to follow us?” whispered Tavia.
“Don’t you dare look back to see,” commanded Dorothy, fiercely.
Either the black-hatted man was not very bold and bad, after all, or Dorothy’s remark about expecting the boys fulfilled its duty. He did not follow them beyond the bridge.