“You hain’t s-s-scairt, be you?” says he.
“I hain’t what you’d call easy in my mind,” says I.
“All right,” says he. “If that’s the way you f-f-feel, we’ll jest escape, and I’ll git Plunk or Tallow to come back with me when we can git a chanct.”
“You won’t,” says I, “because so long as I’m here I might as well stick. If them kids can do it, I guess I can.”
“I knew you would, Binney,” says he, which ended that. I was elected to stay, hungry or no hungry, so I settled down and made believe I was eating an apple pie. But that didn’t do much good. It just made me hungrier.
“Wish we could c-c-communicate with our faithful friends, the Knights Tallow and Plunk,” says he.
“We can try,” says I.
“There’s a ladder l-leadin’ to a trap door in the roof,” says Mark. “Let’s go up it and see what there is to see.”
The ladder went up over in a front corner, and I scrambled up it first. Mark came right behind me. I unhooked the trap door cautious and shoved it up; then I poked my head through. There was a flat place about six feet square with a railing around it, and I knew we were on top of a sort of little tower on the front of the house.
“Come on,” says I, “but keep down. We can hide behind this railin’ here.”