“Take her into the house and give her a dose of that sleeping-potion,” said Pierson to Muriel.
“I’ll take the poor child in, for she needs rest and food, but she has had the last dose of that slow poison she shall ever take!”
“See here!” said John, brutally, “you are going too far, my lady. I have just about tired of your interference in this matter!”
“Then,” replied Muriel, firmly, “you might as well sit down and take a good long rest, for I’ve only just begun. Don’t you know that I am perfectly well aware of the reason that caused you to take this child, whose beauty and purity were so great that even God Almighty interfered, to save her from you? I’m no saint, but let me tell you here and now, that I’m going to stand by this child as if she were my own, and that neither you nor anyone else shall harm one hair of her head!”
“Well, then, come on,” said John, in a tone so quiet that anyone who did not know him might have thought he was completely cowed; “and don’t stand there brawling like a fishwife.”
Saying this, John led the way to the saloon door, the only entrance to the hotel for guests. Dora looked up at the house and turned to Muriel, asking:
“Is that home, lady? Shall we find papa and Bennie in there?”
“You shall see papa and Bennie soon, dearie. Come on, come on.”
“All right. I’ll go, for I’m so tired and hungry, too.”
John took the arm of Dora, while Muriel stood beside her, with Dopey in the rear, and they entered the saloon.