“It might be that woman who tried to carry the child away.”
“I think not. That was in another part of the city. Probably just nothing at all.”
“Yes, yes, there it is now. I hear it. Look about quick.”
“No one in sight,” said Florence. “It’s your nerves. You’d better go home and get a good night’s sleep.”
They parted hurriedly at the station. Florence swung onto the train boarded by the child, a train which she knew would carry her to the north side, directly away from the university.
“Probably be morning before I get in,” she grumbled to herself. “What a wild chase!”
Yet, as she stole a glance now and then at the child, who, all unconscious of her scrutiny, sat curled up in the corner of a near-by seat, she felt that, after all, she was worth the effort being made for her.
“Whosoever saveth a soul from destruction,” she whispered to herself as the train rattled on over the river on its way north.
In the meantime Lucile had boarded a south-bound car. She was not a little troubled by the thought of those footsteps behind them on the sidewalk. She knew it was not her nerves.
“Someone was following us!” she whispered to herself. “I wonder who and why.”