Only a little light filtered in. But it was sufficient to show them a pale face flattened against the glass.
The face suddenly grinned widely. Then a hand waved. They saw his red hair under his cap, and the two girls clung together with a cry of delight.
Scorch O’Brien was “on the job.”
CHAPTER XXIX
ALL ABOUT NANCY
The red-haired youth drew himself up to the window-sill (he had climbed a rickety arbor below) and motioned to the girls to unlock the sashes. They did so and Scorch forced up the lower one.
“Hist!” he whispered, in a tone so hoarse that it almost choked him. “Where is he?”
“We don’t know,” said Jennie, hastily. “He’s locked us into this room.”