"She'll find it out and lick me worse," said Curly, doubtfully.
"She won't. The girls are asleep, I tell you."
"Well, you know it, don't you?" demanded Curly, with desperation.
"Curly Smith! If you think I'd tell on you, you deserve to stay out here on this roof and freeze," declared Ruth, in anger.
"Oh, say! don't get mad," said Curly, fearing that she would leave him as she intimated.
"Come on, then—and whisper. Not a sound when you get in the room. And for pity's sake, Curly Smith—don't fall!"
"Not going to," growled the boy. "Look out and let me swing down to that window-sill. Ugh! I 'most slipped then. Look out!"
Ruth wriggled back into the room and almost immediately Curly's unshod feet appeared on the sill. She grasped his ankles firmly.
"Come in!" she whispered. "That's the boy! Quick, now!"
All this in low whispers. The girls did not stir, and Ruth had no light. She could barely see the figure of the boy between her and the gray light out-of-doors.