“Why, jump!” cried Bobby. “There’ll be nothing to stop you.”
“Don’t talk so recklessly,” said Mother Wit. “This is really a very serious problem. Mother will be very anxious about me if I don’t come home by six.”
“It’s an hour and a half to that yet,” said Nellie, looking at her watch.
Bobby was striving to squeeze through one of the open windows in the tower and look down upon the street. But it was nonsense to expect anybody on the walk to see them up there in the tower.
“And we could shriek our heads off without attracting a bit of attention,” declared Nellie, half crying. “What shall we do, Laura?”
“Keep cool,” advised Laura. “Why lose all our courage because we are locked into this tower? We will be found.”
“Maybe,” spoke Bobby, gloomily.
“You have become a regular croaker,” declared Jess. “I’m ashamed of you, Bobs.”
“That’s all right!” cried Bobby. “But hunger is an awful thing to suffer.”
“Ha! you make me laugh,” cried Eve. “Just think of me! If I don’t catch that 5:14 train I’ll not get supper till nine o’clock.”