"I will not leave," I said to the girl, "unless you give me some good
reason for not accompanying me, seeing you express a desire to be
rescued."

"---- ---- ----!" shouted the man, "if you don't clear right out, I'll
brain you" He held suspended in the air a full soda water bottle, one
of the heaviest.

The girl, pushing me away from her, said, "Go! go! He'll do it." And
then she whispered:

"_He's my father_."

I rushed out, excitedly informed my companions, and then quickly sought
a policeman, who, when I informed him, simply shrugged his shoulders
and remarked: "I can't interfere. The man has a license, his daughter
isn't of age, he's her legal guardian. Don't know what you can do about
it; you'll have to consult higher authority than me"--a course which we
proceeded to follow in the morning.

In the evening we visited that same place, accompanied by an officer in
private clothes. A large, showy woman and also a bar-tender stood
behind the bar. "Are you the party what was here last night trying to
make trouble?" she inquired. "Well, you're left. The bird has flown.
Ha! ha! I'm running this place now, and I don't need your help,
neither. Don't you come here while I'm in charge of it," etc.
Evidently, the policeman first accosted had given the alarm. I have
never heard what became of that poor girl and her wicked, unnatural
father. A tenderhearted woman in that awful neighborhood, one who had
tried to protect her, told me this: