Toy and steam engines were soon forgotten, for Dorothy and Tavia were anxious to free themselves from the jostling of eager shoppers, and from the risk of the deliberate elbowing of the little woman in black.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Dorothy, "I did intend to go right on with our list. And now we have to stop and wait. What can she mean by always keeping in our tracks? Perhaps she is weak and has not the strength to make her own way through the crowds."
"Then she should have stayed at home," replied the practical Tavia. "I see no reason why we should be inconvenienced by her infirmities."
"But she may have babies. Come, we will go to the counter. I must get a pretty comb for Mrs. Pangborn."
"Comb?" repeated Tavia indifferently. "I thought Mrs. Pangborn had a head full of combs."
"I know she wears them, which shows she is fond of them," replied Dorothy, "and I do think in her kind of lovely white hair pretty combs are so attractive. I want one with a band of forget-me-nots."
With some in her heart for the mother who had made such sacrifices to give her daughter "her own Christmas money," Tavila looked for the little neck pin for Mrs. Travers. It must be carefully selected, with a view to economy as well as with the purpose of obtaining the best possible value for the money.
It took some time to accomplish this, as the clerks were too busy to attend to customers, save as they might be able to note them by turns.
Finally Tavia had upon a pin. Dorothy was pleased with it—the enameled clover-leaf was simple yet effective.
"I do wish people would not crush so," complained Tavia, as some one crowded her against the glass showcase.
"!" whispered Dorothy, "It is not well to let people see ill nature. We will get along better if we just take things as they come."
Tavia felt the rebuke—she had spoken loud enough to attract attention, and people did stare. At the same time it was not comfortable to be carried with the tide and be unable to direct one's own movements.
"Is that the little woman in black?" she asked as a dark figure past.
"Looks like her," replied Dorothy, smiling, anxious to have Tavia recover her good humor. "Seems as if we cannot lose her."
"I think it was she who pushed me that time," Tavia explained, "and it made me angry."
"I did not see her then," said Dorothy, somewhat surprised.
"No, she was directly back of you, and had your purse been in that open bag I fancy she might have—made a mistake in judging to whom the bag belonged."
"Nonsense," protested Dorothy. "She would not do anything like that. She simply happened to be interested in the same line of goods we were seeking."
"Well, I never saw such greedy eyes," insisted Tavia. "If she could get our cash with them I am quite sure we might walk home, for all of her. A muff is a great thing in a crowd."
"Suppose we go to the rest room and look over the list," suggested Dorothy. "I feel we have not begun to shop yet, although we have been in this store almost an hour. It will straighten us out to start fresh."
Dorothy turned, and Tavia was directly back of her. Both noticed that the clerks seemed excited—one was talking over the desk telephone, while others looked excitedly into trays and boxes.
Presently it seemed that all eyes were directed toward Dorothy. She felt the implied charge instantly, and her face .
"What are they gawking at?" asked Tavia aloud, with her usual recklessness under excitement.
But before Dorothy could reply she was tapped lightly on the shoulder, and, turning, she a young woman, tall, dark and most important-looking.
"You must step into the office," she said , at the same time taking Dorothy's arm.
"Shoplifting!" exclaimed some one. Tavia clutched Dorothy's arm.
"Tell her she is mistaken!" exclaimed Tavia, holding Dorothy back.
"You had better come along quietly," the tall woman directed, urging the girl to accompany her. "There is no use or sense in making a scene."
Dorothy turned deathly pale.
"Arrested!" she heard people saying. Then she faced them and somehow walked with the woman detective toward the business office.