“You’re trapped all right,” declared Thompson, as he snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.
“And in for a good long term in the State Prison,” added Mr. Baxter. “We have you dead to rights, Higby, and you haven’t a show in the world. But you may be able to have some years cut from your term if you help now to undo a wrong.”
“What is it?” muttered Higby, his craven soul clutching at straws.
“That theft at Roxbury that you charged Helen Holman with committing,” Baxter reminded him. “You stole that purse yourself, didn’t you? Speak up now. Nothing but the truth will help you.”
“Yes,” admitted Higby, sheepishly.
“I thought as much,” remarked Baxter. “Take him away, Thompson.”
There was a wild hubbub after the officer had driven away to Milford with his prisoner. All the boys and girls were laughing and talking at once.
“Who is this Helen Holman you were talking of?” asked Mr. Morley.
A sudden hush fell on Cora and the others, as they listened for Mr. Baxter’s answer.
“A girl that has lately been leading the life of a gypsy,” replied Mr. Baxter. “She’s a very interesting character. Miss Kimball,” he continued, turning to Cora, “will you ask Miss Holman to step here for a moment?”