"
Bobby sprang to her feet from the leather chair where she had curled
up to listen to the proceedings.
"I'll telephone my father," she cried. "He'll help Bob to sue you
for false arrest. If you have some one arrested and it is found he
didn't do what you said he did, he can sue you for damages. I've
heard my father say so. Don't you care, Bob, Daddy will find a way to
beat this horrid old man."
An unpleasant smile spread over the mean, shriveled face.
"Is that so?" queried Joseph Peabody. "Well, I don't know who you
are, Miss, but you need a lesson on how to keep a civil tongue in
your head. All the fine friends Mister Bob has picked up in
Washington won't stand by him long when they find out he's a
poorhouse rat and a runaway at that. There'll be some explaining for
you to do before the almshouse authorities are satisfied, young man."
Betty's anger flamed as the familiar odious phrase fell from the
farmer's lips, and added to her anger was the crystallized fear that
had been haunting her for weeks. She did not know whether Bob could
really be returned to the poor-house or whether it was another trick
of Peabody's, but she feared the worst and dreaded it.
"You try to return Bob to the poorhouse!" she cried, her cheeks
blazing, her hands clenched.
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