In the morning after securing Ada’s release from Blackwell’s Island. Margaret woke bright and early. Her little protégée, worn out with her recent hardships, was still sleeping. “I’ll not rouse her,” thought Margaret, “after those hard cots, a real bed must feel so good.” “Our Mutual Girl” and her aunt spent the forenoon reviewing the spring fashion display at Stern Brothers. Meanwhile, at the Knickerbocker mansion, Ada Taylor had waked, dressed and breakfasted. She sat in Margaret’s dainty boudoir, debating with herself whether she should accept her deliverer’s generosity. After considerable mental struggle, she decided to slip away as quietly as possible. The news of her release had reached the East Side, and she had been “shadowed” to Margaret’s house by her former sweetheart of the dance hall. Thus it happened that when she was stealing away, she ran into the arms of “Kid Joseph.” “Come over in the park, Ada, I want to talk to you,” he urged, “This dame ain’t slippin’ you the pad and the eats because she likes your sort. She’s got a society bug and thinks you’re a little classier than a pet dog. Bye and bye she’ll tie a can onto you; then you won’t have no pals, no nothin’. Better stick along with me.” Thus persuaded, Ada went back to the East Side. Almost at the same hour, on her way home in the motor, Margaret rescued Ada’s brother from the police. He had yielded to the old temptation and made an attempt, unsuccessful, however, to break into a store window where crisp bills were displayed. When they reached home they found Ada gone. Her brother knew whom to suspect, and Margaret would have lost no time in following him to her protégée’s rescue, had not Mrs. Knickerbocker put her foot down. A half hour later, nevertheless, “Our Mutual Girl” stole out of the house in her perilous quest of Ada Taylor.