Tangled in a most astonishing manner, the three seemed to bound like a huge rubber ball from stair to stair. At intervals legs and arms shot out from the mass and described half circles in the air. The woman continued to scream, the professor yelled, while the major grunted and gasped with every thump. It sounded as if the entire hotel was falling.
“Oh, say, pard, this is awful!” cried Buckhart, rushing toward the stairs.
“I’m afraid the professor will be somewhat dented,” said Dick, also losing no time.
Thud! crash!
The trio landed at the bottom of the stairs.
Sarah Ann struck in a sitting posture, with her skirts outspread. She was minus a wig and a full set of false teeth, and she presented a ludicrous spectacle of wreck and despair. Both men were beneath her, and having landed on them she did not seem to be seriously harmed.
Dick and Brad bounded down the stairs and reached her.
“Are you hurt, madam?” questioned Merriwell, his natural chivalry causing him to express anxiety for her first.
She spoke, and strange were the mumbling sounds which issued from her toothless mouth. “I’ve sost my seesh in thish dishgrashful affairsh,” she answered. “Be sho kindsh to reshtorsh my seesh, pleash.”
“Here madam,” said Dick, picking up something, “are part of them.”