“If you promise not to run away before I have a chance to talk with you, Jack, I’ll let you go,” she said.
Popella muttered something she took for assent, and Dorothy released her hold upon his collar. The youngster hitched his coat up and stood sullenly with his eyes upon the ground.
“A pleasant specimen of the male species,” Tavia whispered, but her chum frowned and motioned her to be quiet.
“Why did you run away when you saw us coming this morning?” asked Dorothy quietly. “Why should you think we would want to hurt you?”
Jack Popella glanced up quickly, then down at the ground again. Evidently he was surprised at her gentle tone and somewhat disarmed by it.
“I wasn’t scared. I just didn’t want to talk to no one.”
“Why?” Dorothy continued her inquisition, and the boy shuffled uneasily.
“Aw, how does a guy know that?” he protested. “I just didn’t, that’s all.”
“Now listen, Jack!” Dorothy’s voice altered suddenly, became crisp and determined. “I have a few questions I want to ask you and I want you to answer them truthfully. If you don’t, I may be able to get you into a great deal of trouble.”
This kind of talk was more what Jack Popella was used to, and he looked at Dorothy again, a sullen, unpleasant light smoldering in his eyes. Dorothy shuddered to think that her brother Joe had ever come in contact with a lad like this.