Wyn's Camping Days Part 35

"Let's go!" suggested Frankie.

"There will be plenty of wind bye and bye," said Dave, thoughtfully eyeing the clouds on the horizon.

"Listen to the weather prophet," scoffed Ferdinand.

"I tell you!" cried Frankie, jumping up. "Let's go up into the windmill and see how far one can really _see_ from that height. The farmer's wife says it is a great view--doesn't she, Wyn?"

"I'm game," responded Wyn. "We'll be no warmer walking than we are sitting here talking about the heat."

She and Frankie and Dave started off ahead; but Tubby would not come, nor would Grace Hedges. The others, however, saw some prospect of amus.e.m.e.nt and were willing to pay the price.

They began to be paid for their walk as soon as they came out into the open fields of Windmill Farm. A little breeze had sprung up and, although it was fitful at first, it soon grew to a steady wind from across the lake.

The distant haze was dissipated, and when the boys and girls reached the top of the hill they were glad they had come.

"I bet we have a storm bye and bye," Dave said. "But isn't the air up here cool?"

"Let's climb up into the loft," Frank urged. "The farmer's wife said we could."

"They're all away from home to-day," Wyn said. "But I don't believe they will mind. When we came up for the milk this morning Mrs. Prosser told us they were going on a Sunday school picnic."

"I'd like to set the old thing to working," remarked the inquisitive Ferdinand. "What do you know about it, Dave?"

"It starts by throwing in this clutch," replied the bigger boy, just inside the door. "If the wind keeps on the farmer will probably grind a grist when he comes back. You see, there are several bags of corn and wheat yonder."

The girls were already finding their way up the dusty ladders, from loft to loft of the tower. Frank got to the top floor first and called out her delight at the view.

"Come on up!" she cried. "There is plenty of room. It's bigger up here than you think--and the breeze is nice. There are two windows, and that makes a fine draught."

The boys trooped up behind the Go-Aheads--all but Ferdinand. But none of them missed him for some minutes.

What a view was obtained from the window of the mill! The whole panorama of Lake Honotonka and its sh.o.r.es, with a portion of the Wintinooski Valley, lay spread like a carpet at their feet--woods and fields, cultivated land in the foreground, the rocky ridges of Gannet Island, Jarley's Landing, the Forge, the steep sh.o.r.e of the lake beyond the Wintinooski, and so around to the fine houses in Braisely Park and the smoke of the big city to the west.

In the midst of their exclamations there came a sudden jar through the heavily-timbered building that startled them.

"What's that?" cried Mina.

"An earthquake!" laughed Frankie.

"It's the sails!" yelled Dave, starting for the ladder. "What are you doing down there, Ferd?"

The groaning and shaking continued. The arms of the windmill were going round and round--every revolution increasing their speed.

"Stop that, Ferd!" shouted Dave again, starting to descend the ladder.

"Isn't that just like a boy?" demanded Bess, in disgust. "He just _had_ to fool with the machinery."

"What do you suppose the miller will say?" queried Wyn, anxiously.

The roar of the whirling arms almost drowned their voices. The wind had increased to a brisk breeze. With the sails so well filled the arms turned at top-notch speed. The tower shook as though it were about to tumble down.

"Oh, dear me!" moaned Mina, the timid one. "Let us get out of here."

"Why doesn't Dave make him stop it?" shouted Frankie.

"Why doesn't the foolish Ferd stop it himself?" was Wyn's demand.

The other boys were already tumbling down the ladder, and the girls followed as fast as possible. It was rather dark below, and when they came to the ground floor, it was full of dancing dust-particles. Dave and Ferd were busy over the machinery near the door.

"Can't you stop it, Dave?" shrieked Percy.

"The confounded thing is broken!" announced Dave, in disgust.

"Goodness me!" cried Frank. "I want to get out of here."

She started for the door; but Wyn grabbed her just in time. Past the open door whirled the sails of the mill--one after the other--faster and faster. And so close were the sails to the doorway that there was not room for the very smallest of the Go-Ahead girls to get out without being struck.

Dave stared around at the others. It was almost impossible to hear each other speak--and what was there to say? Each boy and girl realized the situation in which Ferd's meddling had placed them.

Until the wind subsided they were prisoners in the tower.

Ferd Roberts subsided into a corner, and hid his face in his hands. He had done something that scared his inquisitive soul to the very bottom.

He had started the sails, and then, in trying to throw out the clutch, he had started the millstones as well. _They_ made most of this noise that almost deafened them.

Finally, however, Dave pushed the power belt from the flywheel, and the stones stopped turning; but there was no way of stopping the sails. To step outside the door was to court instant death, and until the wind stopped blowing it seemed as though there would be no escape.

"And the wind blows sometimes two or three days at a stretch!" cried Frankie.

"It's lucky Tubby isn't up here with us," Dave said, grimly. "He would want to cast lots at once to see which one of the party should be eaten first."

"Ugh! don't joke like that, Dave," begged Mina. "Maybe we _will_ be dreadfully hungry before we get out of this place."

"I'm hungry now," announced Frankie.

"It _is_ near time for luncheon," agreed Wyn.

"'Luncheon'! Huh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dave. "I s'pose that's the feminine of 'lunch.' I could eat a stack of pancakes and a whole can of beans right now. I'm too hungry for any mere 'luncheon.'"

"Oh, dear! It's so hot down here," sighed Percy. "If we've got to stay, let's go upstairs again, where there is some air stirring."

"Let's wave a signal from the window. Maybe somebody will see it and come to our rescue," suggested Frank.

"And what could they do?" demanded Wyn, "These sails can't be stopped from the outside; can they, Dave?"

"Not that I know of," replied Dave. "If there was a tree near, a fellow might tie a kedge rope to it, and then throw the kedge over one of the arms. But that would tear the machinery all to pieces, I suppose, it would stop it with such a jerk."

Just then Mina Everett uttered a shrill cry of alarm. "Look! Look!" she cried. "It's afire! We'll burn up in here! Oh, oh, Wynnie! what shall we do?"