“If the place were wood, I’d do that very thing,” declared Terry angrily. “Then they’d have to unlock the door!”
“Terry Mapes! Aren’t you ashamed to talk like that? You know well enough you’d never do such a thing. Anyway, you’ll never get a chance. This house is built of stone all through.”
“Worse luck! How are we ever going to get out? Are we to stay here for weeks and weeks until Bud Hyslop gets the ransom money out of Bennett Graham? It would take a long time to make the old skinflint part with his bankroll. In the meantime Syd and Allan may be injured, or even killed.”
“You shouldn’t say such things about Allan’s father. Bennett Graham will pay the money in a day or two. He just worships Allan. You know that. So there is nothing for us to do but wait and see what happens. We’re locked in this old prison, and here we will have to stay until everything is over.” Prim dusted a chair and sat down as if she were settled.
“Wait and see!” echoed Terry scornfully. “That kind of talk makes me mad! And I’m blue as can be, when I think of being kept prisoner in this terrible place.”
But Terry was not the kind of girl to stay depressed very long when she might think out a plan. “Now, Prim,” she exclaimed, “What’s to be done? The door is locked, the windows are too narrow to climb through. What will we do now?”
“Let’s count our blessings,” said Prim. “Mother says there is always something to be thankful for.”
“All right. Let’s begin.” Terry looked about the room. “Here’s a big bed. That’s something. It’s hard as a rock, but who cares! Let’s see what is under these home-made quilts. No wonder they were called crazy quilts. It makes you crazy just to look at them.”
While she chattered, Terry examined the bed. It was clean and spotless, and the mattress was filled with fresh straw.
“Things might be much worse,” answered Prim. “Look what the mattress rests on. No wonder it’s hard, for there are no springs at all but just a network of ropes stretched criss-cross. It’s a real antique.”