Marjorie was silent, and the woman opened the door and went out. The girls turned to their breakfast.
“I wish I were dead!” exclaimed Marjorie. “I won’t eat her old food!” Then suddenly, with a flash of inspiration, “Frieda, let’s go on a hunger strike—like the woman suffragists did! They wouldn’t dare let us die.”
“But in the meantime the meet would be over,” objected Frieda, proceeding to the table, and pouring cream over her peaches. “No, Marjorie, that won’t do. But we’ll think of a better plan. Come, eat your peaches.”
Her companion, however, did not stir from the bed. Frieda carried her own peaches over to the window and sat upon the broad sill to eat them. Gazing idly out, she noticed a slender lattice which led up to the window, and an arbor underneath. That was the solution of their problem! Her eyes lighted up with the discovery.
“Marj!” she whispered, excitedly. “There’s a lattice and an arbor just outside our window! We can easily escape!”
The other girl was out of bed in an instant, looking eagerly out of the window. Frieda was right; the structure, frail though it was, looked sufficiently strong to support their slender weight.
“Let’s do it right away, Frieda!” proposed Marjorie. “Oh, you are a trump!” She seized her companion, and hugged her in ecstasy.
“Sh!” cautioned the other. “No, I’d love to go right away, but I really think we better wait till dark. Won’t it be wonderful to give the old man the slip?”
“Perfect!” agreed Marjorie. “Gracious, Frieda, it just seems as if I couldn’t wait!”
“Well, you must! And let’s stuff all the food we can, for most likely there isn’t any left in our canoes, and we have no money. Are you good for a two-day fast?”