“Well, I don’t know anything about them!” denied Purt, hurriedly. “I—I just want to go up for my book——”
He shook himself free and ran for the front stairway. He knew his way in the dark and hoped to leave the girl behind. Once let him reach the foot of the tower stairs, he would unlock the door, fling it open so that the prisoners would hear him above, and then dart down the boys’ stairway and so out of the school building again.
But before he reached the top of the first flight he heard the patter of the strange girl’s footsteps beside him. Through the long windows enough light filtered to show him her figure. And she ran better than he did, and without panting.
Purt was scared now worse than he had been before.
“She’ll tell them who unlocked the door,” he thought, “and so they’ll know right away who imprisoned them in the first place. Then Laura will tell her brother and Chet will thrash me—I know he will!”
The lad was almost ready to cry now. It seemed to him as though every step he took got him deeper and deeper into trouble.
He dashed up the other flight two steps at a time; but the girl kept on equal terms with him. What good wind she had! She could beat many of the girls of Central High in running, that was sure.
“I don’t know what has become of Eve Sitz and that other girl you want to see,” exclaimed Purt, stopping suddenly. “And I don’t see why you are sticking so close to me.”
“You know your way around this building; I don’t,” declared the girl, shortly.
“I can’t help you find them——”