It sounded like Fourth of July, but to the two girls, watching from the window, there was no effect of celebration.
But their desperate plan succeeded. Carter heard the racket, and did not mistake it for thunder; but, strangely enough, realized at once what it was.
"It's them crazy children in their tree-house," he exclaimed; "but what the mischief do they be settin' off firecrackers for, in the pouring rain? Howsomever I'll just go and see what's up, for like as not they've burned their fingers, if so be that they haven't put their eyes out."
As Carter started from the greenhouse, where he had been working, the torrents of rain that beat in his face almost made him change his mind, but he felt a sense of uneasiness about Marjorie, and something prompted him to go on. In a stout raincoat, and under a big umbrella, he made his way across the field through the storm toward "Breezy Inn."
"My land!" he exclaimed, "if that ladder ain't disappeared. What will them youngsters be up to next?"
But even as he noticed the broken ladder, the door flew open, and
Marjorie and Molly popped their heads out.
"Oh, Carter!" Marjorie screamed; "do get a ladder, and hurry up! Ours is broken down, and Stella is struck by lightning, and, oh, Carter, do help us!"
Carter took in the situation at a glance. He said nothing, for it was no time for words. He saw the broken ladder could not be repaired in a minute; and, turning, he ran swiftly back to the barn for another ladder. A long one was necessary, and with Moses to help him they hurried the ladder across the field and raised it.
Another fortunate effect of the firecracker explosion had been to rouse Stella. Partly owing to the noise of the explosion, and partly because the effect of the shock was wearing away, Stella had opened her eyes and, realizing what had happened, promptly made up for lost time by beginning to cry violently. Also, the reaction at finding Stella herself again, and the relief caused by the appearance of Carter, made Molly and Marjorie also break down, and when Carter came bounding up the ladder he found three girls, soaking wet as to raiment, and diligently adding to the general dampness by fast-flowing tears.
"What is it, now?" he inquired, and if his tone sounded impatient, it was scarcely to be wondered at. For the battle-scarred veranda and the drenched condition of the room, together with a broken ladder, surely betokened mischief of some sort.