Both girls ran up and kissed her through the broken window.
“I heard the plane, and I was hoping it was you!” said Helen.
“Are you all right?” demanded Linda, almost afraid to ask. She dreaded to think what confinement in this ghastly house might have done to the nervous girl.
“I’m fine,” replied the other. “Only I’m a prisoner. But I was going to work my way out.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. Mrs. Fishberry locked me in and ran away on Saturday.”
“Oh, you poor girl!” cried Linda. “And are you starved to death?”
“No. I had oatmeal and water and dried lima beans. Really, I’m all right. And Linda—I remember everything!”
“Honestly?”
“Yes. You can call me Helen now—that really is my right name. I’ll tell you all about it when I get out of here.”