“Yes, do look out where you step,” said Bobby, grabbing Jess’s skirt with a firm grip. “It’s a long way down to the street.”
“If we only had some means of making a light up here,” said Laura, in a worried tone. “Then, after dark, people would be attracted by our plight.”
“I haven’t a match—have you?” demanded Bobby.
“Of course not. Girls never do carry useful things in their pockets. Unless you do, Bobby.”
“I’ve got about everything in my pocket but a match,” declared the smaller girl.
“I have a good mind to drop this old coat,” called Jess, from outside.
“And it would catch on something half-way down the tower, perhaps, and then you’d never see it again,” Bobby said.
“Well, what shall we do?” demanded Jess, wriggling back into the tower room and dragging her jacket after her. “Nobody will even look up. I expect we’d look like pigeons up here to them.”
“Oh, dear!” gasped Bobby. “I do wish some pigeons would fly up here. They do sometimes, you know.”
“What good would they do us?” demanded Nellie.