My! we are becoming famous travelers!"
Very late that night Major Dale still sat at his desk. It was a serious
matter for him to allow his only daughter to go into a strange city and
then to a police court to identify a criminal. But how else could he
carry out his sacred obligation to Burlock? How else could he fulfill
his duty to the lost child?
And Dorothy too, was troubled that night. Would she really have courage
to undertake the trip to a big city and then--?
But she, too, had made a promise, and she, too, felt the voice of the
dead father and the voice or the neglected child crying for justice.
Dorothy Dale did not hesitate--she would go.
Next morning Tavia bounced around like a toy balloon. To think of going
to Rochester, and into a police court--what could be more delightfully
sensational? And perhaps they would have their names in the papers,
their pictures, she ventured to suggest. "The two girls from Dalton!" "A
striking scene in the police court!" These and other "striking things"
she outlined to serious Dorothy, who now in the early morning sat so
close to the car window, and seemed to hear nothing of the foolish
prattle, as the train rattled on.
"Don't be a funeral, Doro," objected Tavia. "It's the best fun I ever
dreamed of. Wait till they call on me to testify! Ahem! Won't I make a
stir!"
"But we are not going to testify at all--"
"Same thing.
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