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"Chet would wring his neck for a thing like this," declared Jess, with confidence.
"I don't care who did it, or what it was done for," said Bobby, finally.
"The fact remains: The door is locked!"
"That is the truest thing you ever said, Bobby," sighed Jess. "Come on back to the tower room. Do you suppose we can call loud enough to attract the attention of people on the street?"
"Not in a thousand years," groaned Bobby.
"Oh, we won't have to remain here that long," said Laura, cheerfully.
"Hope not," growled Bobby. "I'm getting hungry."
"That won't do you any good," said Jess. "It's useless to have an appet.i.te when there is nothing in sight to satisfy it--just as useless as the holes in a porous plaster."
"Who says the holes in a porous plaster are useless?" demanded Bobby, quickly. "They're not."
"What are they for, then?" asked Eve, mildly.
"Why, to let the pain out, of course," declared Bobby, boldly.
"I wish there were some holes here that would let _us_ out," sighed Nellie Agnew.
"Don't lose heart, Nell!" advised Laura. "There never was a situation that didn't offer some release. We'll find a way of escape."
"Sure!" scoffed Bobby. "Any of us can crawl out through one of these slits in the wall."
"And then what?" demanded Jess.
"Why, jump!" cried Bobby. "There'll be nothing to stop you."
"Don't talk so recklessly," said Mother Wit. "This is really a very serious problem. Mother will be very anxious about me if I don't come home by six."
"It's an hour and a half to that yet," said Nellie, looking at her watch.
Bobby was striving to squeeze through one of the open windows in the tower and look down upon the street. But it was nonsense to expect anybody on the walk to see them up there in the tower.
"And we could shriek our heads off without attracting a bit of attention," declared Nellie, half crying. "What _shall_ we do, Laura?"
"Keep cool," advised Laura. "Why lose all our courage because we are locked into this tower? We will be found."
"Maybe," spoke Bobby, gloomily.
"You have become a regular croaker," declared Jess. "I'm ashamed of you, Bobs."
"That's all right!" cried Bobby. "But hunger is an awful thing to suffer."
"Ha! you make me laugh," cried Eve. "Just think of me! If I don't catch that 5:14 train I'll not get supper till nine o'clock."
"But what a supper it will be when you _do_ get it!" exclaimed Bobby.
"Oh, girls! when I was at Eve's house last week they had thirteen vegetables for supper, besides two kinds of cold meat, and preserves and pickles. Talk about the poor farmer! Why the sort of supper Eve's folks have every night would cost city folks two dollars a plate."
"I am afraid you are stretching your imagination, Bobby," laughed Eve.
"Never! They've got bins and bins of vegetables--and rows and rows of ham in the meat house--and bar'ls and bar'ls of salt pork! Listen here,"
cried the whimsical Bobby, who had a doggerel rhyme for every occasion.
"This is just what Eve Sitz hears whenever she goes down into the cellar in the winter. She can't deny it!" And she sang:
"Potato gazed with frightened eyes, King corn lent mournful ear, The beet a blus.h.i.+ng red did turn, The celery blanched with fear, The bean hid trembling in its pod, The trees began to bark, And on the beaten turnpike road The stones for warmth did spark, The brooklet babbled in its sleep Because the night was cold; The onion weeps within its bed Because the year is old."
"You are so ridiculous," said Eve. "n.o.body believes the rigamaroles you say."
"All right!" returned Bobby, highly offended. "But you're bound to believe one thing--that's sure."
"What is that?" queried Nellie.
"That we're up in this tower, with the door locked--and I believe that John, the janitor, goes home about this time to supper!"
"Oh, oh!" cried Nellie. "Don't say _that_. However will we get away?"
"Let's bang on the door!" exclaimed Jess.
So they thumped upon the thick oak door--Bobby even kicked it viciously; and they shouted until they were hoa.r.s.e. But n.o.body heard, and n.o.body came. The only person who knew they were locked into the tower was a mile away from Central High by that time--and, anyway, he dared not tell of what he had done, nor did he dare go back to release the girls from their imprisonment.
CHAPTER XVII--EVE TAKES A RISK
"Now, Nell!" declared Mother Wit, emphatically, "there isn't the least use in your crying. Tears will not get us down from this tower."
"You--you can be just as--as brave as you want to be," sobbed Nellie Agnew. "I--want--to--go--home!"
"For goodness-gracious sake! Who doesn't?" snapped Bobby. "But, just as Laura says, weeping and wailing and gnas.h.i.+ng of teeth won't help us the tiniest bit!"
"What will help us, I'd like to know?" grumbled Jess Morse.
"Put on your thinking cap, Mother Wit," cried Bobby.
"Dear me!" said Eve, drawing in her head. "It _is_ a long way from the ground--and that's a fact."
"It's a good, long jump," chuckled Bobby.
"Let's write calls for help on pieces of paper and drop them down,"
suggested Laura.
"With the wind blowing the way it is, the papers would fly up, instead of down," scoffed her chum.