“If you move or say a word, I never will speak to you again!” she said, and at the vehemence of the usually gentle Dorothy, Tavia looked surprised. However, she obeyed and remained curiously quiet.
Dorothy had missed something of what the men had said. She realized this with a sharp annoyance. But the next moment a wave of rage and fear swept over her, blotting out every other sensation.
They were not only speaking of Garry, these two men, but they were threatening him as well. She held her breath so that she might not miss one word of what was to follow.
“He is a kind of simple guy, this Dimples Knapp,” the beady-eyed man was saying with a half-satisfied smirk. “Thinks this old world is made up of goody-goody stiffs who believe in the Golden Rule and go to church regular twice on Sundays. A cute little lamb to fleece!”
“And a nice fat, succulent one,” added Stanley Blake, in a voice neither of the girls recognized. It had a cold, mean quality that made Dorothy shiver, though the dining room was hot.
She glanced at Tavia and saw the look of bewilderment and horror on her face. Tavia had “caught on” at last. She was beginning to find that Dorothy’s aversion to these two men had been founded on something very much more real than a whim.
“THEY ARE TALKING OF GARRY,” SHE EXPLAINED, IN A TENSE WHISPER.
“Dorothy Dale to the Rescue.” Page [99]
“What does it all mean, Doro?” she whispered, but once more Dorothy held up her hand for silence.
“Wait, and perhaps we shall hear,” she said tensely.