"And I'll give fifty swift kicks to any one who tries it!" cried Garnett.
"Wouldn't the young lady like a chair?" a voice said at Harry's elbow.
Turning, Harry saw Smoot, the hotel clerk, leaning over the railing of the porch with a chair in his hand.
"That's good of you!" she exclaimed gratefully. "I didn't realize how tired I am."
"Hungry, too, I guess," suggested Smoot. "If you're going to stick it out all night, you'll need some good chuck to hold you."
"I expect I shall," agreed Harry with a tired little laugh.
"Say, Smoot," suggested Rob, "can't you go over to Kenny's and tell 'em to send round a tray of grub?"
"All right. Anything in particular you'd like, Miss Holliday?"
"A gallon or two of water; I'm so thirsty! But don't you want to eat your own suppers?" she said, turning to Rob and Garnett.
"Shucks! We don't care when we eat," Garnett assured her. "We'll starve out this bunch first, anyhow." Then, in a lower tone, he added, "When Joyce sees you're game, he'll let up."