“Yes,” says I, “and like to stay in it.”
CHAPTER XIX
We found out we were in a big attic that covered the whole of the house. Part of it was floored over and part of it was just joists with the lath and plaster showing on the under side. It looked as if there was about an acre in it, and it was full of angles and brick chimneys and little, funny-shaped windows, and rubbish, and trunks and goodness knows what—except things to eat.
We were there, and no chance of getting out right away, so the idea of getting something to eat was one that came pretty quick. It went about as soon as it came.
“Guess we’ll have to gnaw air,” says I, kind of down-hearted.
“L-l-lucky,” says Mark, “if Jethro don’t gnaw us.”
“What’ll Plunk and Tallow do when we don’t show up?”
“Nothin’, I hope,” says Mark. “Rock’ll f-find some way to tell ’em we’re penned up here, and I guess they’ll have sense enough to do n-nothin’ but hang around to see what t-turns up.”
“They’ll hang around,” says I. “You couldn’t drive ’em away. Don’t think they’d sneak off and leave us, do you?”
“Not them,” says Mark, and the way he said it would have sounded pretty good to Tallow and Plunk if they had heard. It showed that Mark knew them, and was sure he could depend on them no matter what happened.