“Go where?” he leered. “To jail? You’ll go there mighty quick if I care to have you go. All I have to do is to notify the police at Roxbury and you’ll be behind the bars in forty-eight hours.”
The girl turned white as the awful vision that had haunted her for a year past seemed to be assuming form and substance. She had no doubt that he could do as he threatened.
“What do you want with me?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Now you’re getting a little more sensible,” he remarked. “Sit down on that bank and I’ll tell you what I want.
“Those folks you’re staying with are pretty well off, aren’t they?” he inquired.
“How do you know where I’m staying?” she asked.
“That’s my affair,” he said brusquely. “I know you’re staying at a place they call Camp Kill Kare. Quite a change from the gypsy camp,” he sneered. “You’re flying high these days. But that’s neither here nor there. Those boys and girls there seem to have plenty of money. There’d be quite a haul there in the way of cash and watches and diamond rings and other jewelry, I suppose.”
She grasped his meaning and drew away from him in horror.
“You don’t mean to say that you’re thinking of robbing the house!” she exclaimed.
“You’re pretty squeamish for a jailbird,” he sneered.