Dorothy was more puzzled than ever. Would this woman steal her pocketbook? How could she ever get away from the place if penniless?
"Give me that purse," the girl demanded, jumping up out of bed, and attempting to get hold of the beaded trifle.
"Josh! Josh!" called the woman. "Come up here and help me! She's gettin' vi'lent!"
"Violent!" repeated Dorothy, "I ought to get—crazy, to be shut up here—this way."
"Well, dearie, I didn't want to scare you," said the woman, in that tantalizing voice, "but if I was you, I wouldn't get any crazier than I was—if I was you."
"Crazy! Do you think I'm crazy? Is that it?" and poor Dorothy fell back upon the bed.
Fortunately Josiah did not hear his wife call, and of course did not come in answer.
"There now, there now!" and Mrs. Hobbs smoothed out the bed things. "I will fetch you some nice, warm milk. And perhaps to-day I'll be able to send you back to your ma."
"I have no mother," insisted Dorothy. "I told you that my name is Dorothy Dale, and my father is Major Dale of the United States army. If any one attempts to—wrong me, he will see that they are punished."
With all the vehemence she could muster up Dorothy spoke these words, and she saw that they had some effect upon Mrs. Hobbs. Would she believe her, and let her go?