"Pooh! Molly Moss! I guess I can be as brave as you can! I'm not going to faint, or tumble into the water, or do anything silly! Now that I don't have to stand on tiptoe, I could stand here all day,—and Carter's bound to come for water for the cows."
Then what did those two ridiculous girls do but bravely try to outdo each other in their exhibition of pluck!
Neither complained again of weariness or cramped muscles, and finally Marjorie proposed that they tell each other stories to make the time pass, pleasantly. The stories were not very interesting affairs, for both speaker and listener were really suffering from pain and chill.
At last Molly said: "Suppose we scream some more. If Carter should be passing by, you know, he might hear us."
Marjorie was quite willing to adopt this plan, and after that they screamed at intervals on the chance of being heard.
Two mortal hours the girls hung in the well before help came, and then Carter, passing near the well, heard what seemed to him like a faint and muffled cry.
Scarcely thinking it could be the children, he paused and listened.
Again he heard a vague sound, which seemed as if it might be his own name called in despairing tones.
Guided more by instinct than reason, he went and looked over the well-curb, and was greeted with two jubilant voices, which called up to him:
"Oh, Carter, Carter, pull us up! We're down the well, and we're nearly dead!"