They lingered for some time over hot chocolate and wafers. They were waiting for a surface car to carry them home when, on hearing low but excited words, they turned about to behold to their vast astonishment their little mystery child being led along by the collar of her dress. The person dragging her forward was an evil looking woman who appeared slightly the worse for drink.
“So that’s the trick,” they heard her snarl. “So you would run away! Such an ungratefulness. After all we done for you. Now you shall beg harder than ever.”
“No, I won’t beg,” the girl answered in a small but determined voice. “And I shan’t steal either. You can kill me first.”
“Well, we’ll see, my fine lady,” growled the woman.
All this time the child was being dragged forward. As she came opposite the two girls, the woman gave a harder tug than before and the girl almost fell. Something dropped to the sidewalk, but the woman did not notice it, and the child evidently did not care, for they passed on.
Lucile stooped and picked it up. It was the paper lunch box they had seen the child carrying earlier in the evening.
“Something in it,” she said, shaking it.
“Lucile,” said Florence in a tense whisper, “are we going to let that beast of a woman get that child? She doesn’t belong to her, or if she does, she oughtn’t to. I’m good for a fight.”
Lucile’s face blanched.
“Here in this city wilderness,” she breathed.