Those were rather audacious tactics. Seventy-five cents, in the present
state of her finances, was a good deal to squander on a meal. And the
fact that she was openly stalking the judge might lead John Culver to
give his honored patron a word of warning. But Rose didn't care. No
tactics but the simplest and most direct appealed to her. When the judge
finished his dinner, she would follow him to his office, wherever it
might be, walk in with him, and demand a hearing. If he were forewarned,
she would find some other way of getting access to him.
But, whether the proprietor was really ignorant of her plan, or whether
the little scene with her in his office had shaken him so that he didn't
care to try conclusions with her again, the judge was left to his fate.
Rose followed him, unmolested, down the corridor and out into the
street, across the road and up a flight of outside steps, to the second
story of a brick building opposite.
He was fitting his key into the lock when she came up.
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