“It—it’s all right,” the man with the missing ear stammered. “I’ll go with you.”
“Let me have him,” Joyce Mills whispered in the detective’s ear.
“But that’s not the custom. You’re only a slip of a girl.”
“Let me have him,” she insisted. Her voice was filled with a fierce determination.
“It’s all right, mister,” the other broke in. “I’ll go with her. Give you my word of honor.”
“Your word of honor!” scoffed the detective. “Oh, all right, take him,” he said, turning to Joyce. “And take this,” he slipped a small revolver into her jacket pocket, “and keep your eyes open!”
“My eyes and my ears.” The girl actually laughed as she marched away with her prisoner.
“You framed me!” the man grumbled, as they reached the outer door.
“Yes,” she replied, “I framed you. But there’s a reason. You’ll see!”
“You don’t know—”