“Were you afraid of him?” charged Jane.
“No, but we could not decide instantly that
we should run after Judith. It was all so sudden,”
said spokesman Dozia. “And of course we
realized any more commotion would really get us all
in trouble; that old officer is such a crank.”
“But to let Judith face it all alone,”
challenged Jane.
“I really haven’t told the one important
detail,” Dozia vainly attempted to explain.
“I was walking with Judith and two other girls
were just a little ahead. They were Shirley Duncan
and that pretty little thing, Sarah—something—”
“Howland,” Jane flung in.
“Yes,” went on Dozia. “And
Judith seemed so intent on watching them she hardly
answered me intelligently.”
“There is something up between those two,”
declared Winifred Ayres. “I know it, and
I guess Judy knows it too.”
“But what have they to do with the fighting
messengers?” demanded Jane, now utterly bewildered
from the snarled account.
“The messenger, who got the package from Tiny
Tim, shouted at Shirley and she waited. Then,
when he could get near enough he threw the paper box
to Shirley and she raced off toward the Beauty Shop.
When we saw the last of it we couldn’t tell whom
Judith was chasing, but she ran right into Dol Vin’s
shop,” declared Dozia, “and of course
Cop Sandy was not long in doing the same thing.
We knew we would be helpless to do anything there
if Dol were in, so we came back to see what you would
suggest,” ended Dozia with a trail of relief
in the last few words.
“I suggest that we go after Judith,” promptly
ordered Jane, and if precious time had been wasted
in the recital, the loss was atoned in the pace taken
by that rescuing squad as they followed Jane in her
race toward Dol Vin’s Beauty Shop.
TO THE RESCUE
The Beauty Shop was presently besieged by an excited
crowd of girls, and to give due credit to the purely
human element it must be admitted the girls were delighted
to be there—at the forbidden post.
“Thrilling!” whispered Velma Sigsbee,
and she “said it” for all the others.
The redoubtable Dol Vin (short for Dolorez Vincez)
appeared at the quaint square paned door. She
was gowned in a very close fitting and striking black
satin “clinger” gown. Her hair was
done in the most modern of styles, like a window show
for her hair dressing parlor, and her foreign face,
with its natural olive tones, was very much fixed
up with many touches of peach and carmine, as well
as darker hints under the eyes; and her lashes—well,
perhaps Dolorez had been crying inky tears; that was
the effect one gathered from a glance at the vampish
make-up.
“Is Miss Stearns here?” asked Jane authoritatively.
She and Dol had clashed glances before, and Jane had
no idea of condescending to the apostate of Wellington.
