“Yes, ma’am. Hennie calls me Bertha Haney. For I lived with her mom after my mother died. But my name’s Blair.”
“My father is Robert Norwood, the lawyer,” said Jessie swiftly. “He wants you to testify in court about what you heard when that old man made his will at Mrs. Poole’s house.”
“Oh! You mean Mr. Abel Ellison? A gentleman came and asked me about that once, and then Mrs. Poole said I’d got to keep my mouth shut about it or she’d put me away somewhere so that I’d never get away.”
“So I ran away from her,” said Bertha, “and tried to go to Dogtown and see Hennie and the Foleys. Why! wasn’t you one of the girls, Miss, that saw Mrs. Poole putting me into that car?”
“Yes,” sighed Jessie. “I saw it, but couldn’t stop it.”
“Well, they brought me right out here, and I’ve been here ever since. When Mrs. Poole isn’t here that old woman comes and keeps me from running away.”
“But once,” Jessie suggested, “you had a chance to try to send out a cry for help?”
“There’s a radio here. They used it one 198 night. Then I tried to call for help over it. But they heard me and stopped it at once.”
“Just the same, that attempt of yours is what has brought us here to-day. I will tell you all about it later. Come, Bertha! We will get you away from here before Mrs. Poole comes. And we must take you to the city to see my father at once.”
As they left the tower and the ugly old woman, they heard the latter calling a number into the telephone receiver. She was probably trying to report the outrage to Mrs. Poole.