The umbrella was thrown back, and then flew away on the gale from the nerveless hands of Roger Atwood.  Dumb and paralyzed with wonder, he impeded their progress a moment as he looked into Mildred’s white face.  At last a time had come when she welcomed his presence, and she cried, “Oh, Mr. Atwood, tell them at home—­tell them I’m innocent.”

“What does this outrage mean?” he demanded, in a tone that cause the officer to grasp his club tightly.

“It means that if you interfere by another word I’ll arrest you also.  Move on, and mind your business.”

“Miss Jocelyn, explain,” he said earnestly to her, without budging an inch, and the comparatively few passers-by began to gather around them.

“You can have no communication with the prisoner on the street,” said the arm of the law roughly; “and if you don’t get out of my way you’ll be sorry.”

“Please don’t draw attention to me,” entreated Mildred hurriedly.  “You can do nothing.  I’m falsely accused—­tell them at home.”

He passed swiftly on her side, and, as he did so, whispered, “You shall not be left alone a moment.  I’ll follow, and to-morrow prove you innocent,” for, like a flash, the scene he had witnessed the evening before came into his mind.

“Quit that,” warned the officer, “or I’ll—­” but the young man was gone.  He soon turned, however, and followed until he saw Mildred led within the station-house door.  The storm was so severe as to master the curiosity of the incipient crowd, and only a few street gamins followed his example.  He was wary now, and, having regained his self-control, he recognized a task that would tax his best skill and tact.

Having watched until he saw the officer who had made the arrest depart, he entered the station-house.  To the sergeant on duty behind the long desk he said, with much courtesy, “I am a friend of Miss Jocelyn, a young woman recently brought to this station.  I wish to do nothing contrary to your rules, but I would like to communicate with her and do what I can for her comfort.  Will you please explain to me what privileges may be granted to the prisoner and to her friends?”

“Well, this is a serious case, and the proof against her is almost positive.  The stolen goods were found upon her person, and her employers have charged that there be no leniency.”

“Her employers could not have wished her treated cruelly, and if they did, you are not the man to carry out their wishes,” Roger insinuated.  “All that her friends ask is kindness and fair play within the limits of your rules.  Moreover, her friends have information which will show her to be innocent, and let me assure you that she is a lady by birth and breeding, although the family has been reduced to poverty.  She has influential friends.”

His words evidently had weight with the sergeant, and Roger’s bearing was so gentlemanly that the official imagined that the young man himself might represent no mean degree of social and political influence.