“That’s it,” said Dorothy.

“No pocketbook here,” replied the woman.

“Why, that little beaded bag I saw you take from my pocket; that is my purse!”

“Ain’t no sign of sech a thing here,” declared the woman, who was at that very moment trying to secret the purse in the folds of her robe.

Dorothy was more puzzled than ever.  Would this woman steal her pocketbook?  How could she ever get away from the place if penniless?

“Give me that purse,” the girl demanded, jumping up out of bed, and attempting to get hold of the beaded trifle.

“Josh!  Josh!” called the woman.  “Come up here and help me!  She’s gettin’ vi’lent!”

“Violent!” repeated Dorothy, “I ought to get—­crazy, to be shut up here—­this way.”

“Well, dearie, I didn’t want to scare you,” said the woman, in that tantalizing voice, “but if I was you, I wouldn’t get any crazier than I was—­if I was you.”

“Crazy!  Do you think I’m crazy?  Is that it?” and poor Dorothy fell back upon the bed.

Fortunately Josiah did not hear his wife call, and of course did not come in answer.

“There now, there now!” and Mrs. Hobbs smoothed out the bed things.  “I will fetch you some nice, warm milk.  And perhaps to-day I’ll be able to send you back to your ma.”

“I have no mother,” insisted Dorothy.  “I told you that my name is Dorothy Dale, and my father is Major Dale of the United States army.  If any one attempts to—­wrong me, he will see that they are punished.”

With all the vehemence she could muster up Dorothy spoke these words, and she saw that they had some effect upon Mrs. Hobbs.  Would she believe her, and let her go?

“Well, of course, you are a stranger to me,” said the woman, “and, as I live, girlie, I intend to do right by you.  But it’s finding out the right that sometimes makes the wrong.”

“Oh, I am sure Mrs. Hobbs you have been kind,” Dorothy said, in a sobbing voice, “but you see how dreadfully hard it is to be kept away from one’s friends.  Why, I don’t dare to think how they feel!  How my cousins are worrying, and, of course, they have sent word to father.  Oh, dear Mrs. Hobbs, help me to get back!  Help me to get away to-day, for if I don’t—­they will think I am—­dead!”

Dorothy had actually seized the woman’s hands, and was almost kneeling before her.  To be away for two days and a night!

The woman looked keenly into Dorothy’s blue eyes.  She smoothed back the pretty, neglected yellow hair, and she brushed the flaming cheek kindly.  “I would not harm you for the world,” she declared, “for if you are not the lost girl—­you are—­an angel!”

“Here, Samanthy!” called Josiah, from below stairs.  “Come and git me a cup of coffee.  I ain’t got all day to wait around!  I’ve got to git to town!”

“All right, Josh.  I’ll be there right away.  Now, dearie, jest you be patient, and everything will come out all right.”