confused, lost in the buzz and hum
of voices, the shuffle of feet. The air grew warmer and more and more
foul. Myra felt drowsy. She longed to put her head on Joe's shoulder and
fall asleep--sink into peace and stillness. But time and again she came
to with a jerk, started forward and eagerly scanned the faces for Rhona.
What had happened to the girl? Would she be kept in jail overnight? Or
had something worse happened? An increasing fear took possession of her.
She felt in the presence of enemies. Joe was asleep. She could not
question him, could not be set at ease. And how soundly he slept,
breathing deeply, his head hanging far forward. If only she could make a
pillow for that tired head!

She was torn between many emotions. Now she watched a scene beyond the
netting--something cynical, cheap, degrading--watched it with no real
sense of its meaning--wondered where she was and how she had come--and
why all this was going on. Then she would turn and look piteously at
Joe, her face sharp with yearning. Then she would drowse, and awake with
a start. She kept pinching herself.

"If I fall asleep Rhona may get through without us--something will
happen!"

It must have been past midnight. There was no sign of Rhona. Each new
face that emerged from the jail entrance was that of a stranger. Again
an overwhelming fear swept Myra. She touched Joe's arm.

"Joe! Joe!" she whispered.

He did not answer; his hand moved a little and dropped. How soundly he
slept! She smiled then, and sat forward, determined to be a brave
woman.

Then glancing through the netting she spied Blondy and his friends
laughing together. She saw the evil monkey eyes. At once she was back
sharply in Great Jones Street, trembling with outrage and humiliation.
She tried to keep her eyes from him, and again and again looked at him
and loathed him.

"If," she thought, "he is here, perhaps the time has come."

Again she searched the new faces, and gave a little cry of joy. There
was Rhona, pale, quiet, her arm in the hand of the policeman who had
made the arrest.

Myra turned to Joe.

"Joe! Wake up!"

He stirred a little.

"Joe! Joe! Wake up!"

He gave a great start and opened his eyes.

"What is it?" he cried. "Do they want union cards?"

"Joe," she exclaimed, "Rhona's here."

"Rhona?" He sat upright; he was a wofully sleepy man. "Rhona?" Then he
gazed about him and saw Myra.

"Oh, Myra!" He laughed sweetly. "How good it is to see you!"