“Did you think she looked like an orphan?”
“How does an orphan look?” giggled Amy. “I don’t know any except the Molly Mickford kind in the movies, and they are always too appealing for words!”
“Somehow, she didn’t look like that,” admitted Jessie.
“She fought hard. I believe I would have scratched that fat woman’s face myself, if I’d been her. Anyway, she wasn’t in any uniform. Don’t they always put orphans in blue denim?”
“Not always. And that girl would have looked awful in blue. She was too dark. She wasn’t very well dressed, but her clothes and their colors were tasteful.”
“Aren’t you the observing thing,” agreed Amy. “She was dressed nicely. And those women were never guards from an institution.”
“Oh, no!”
“It was a private kidnaping party, I guess,” said Amy.
“And we let it go on right under our noses and did not stop it,” sighed Jessie Norwood. “I’m going to tell my father about it.”
Amy grinned elfishly. “He will tell you that you had a right, under the law, to stop those women and make them explain.”