no plot against her liberty. She must perforce wait for Arthur to
explain his queer conduct; so she sat quietly enough in her place
awaiting his coming, while the ferry puffed steadily across the river to
the Jersey shore.

The stopping of the boat aroused Louise from her reflections. Arthur not
here yet? Voices were calling outside; vehicles were noisily leaving
their positions on the boat to clatter across the platforms. But there
was no sign of Arthur.

Again Louise tried to find the speaking tube. Then she made an endeavor
to open the door, although just then the car started with a jerk that
flung her back against the cushions.

The knowledge that she had been grossly deceived by her conductor at
last had the effect of arousing the girl to a sense of her danger.
Something must be wrong. Something _was_ decidedly wrong, and fear crept
into her heart. She pounded on the glass windows with all her strength,
and shouted as loudly as she could, but all to no avail.

Swiftly the limousine whirled over the dusky road and either her voice
could not be heard through the glass cage in which she was confined or
there was no one near who was willing to hear or to rescue her.

She now realized how wrong she had been to sit idly during the trip
across the ferry, where a score of passengers would gladly have assisted
her. How cunning her captors had been to lull her fears during that
critical period! Now, alas, it was too late to cry out, and she had no
idea where she was being taken or the reason of her going.