The boy made no remark as he came dragging the ladder across the yard and proceeded to prop it firmly against the edge of the roof. “There,” he said finally when he was satisfied that it was steady.
We descended one at a time. The boy watched us coldly. His opinion of girls who got themselves locked in empty houses and marooned on tin roofs was apparent. “I don’t know how we can ever thank you!” Eve exclaimed as she felt that her feet were on firm earth again.
“It was perfectly swell of you to take all this trouble,” I added appreciatively.
“A good deed every day, that’s my motto,” drawled the boy.
“Just a splendid young knight errant,” I added. For just the barest second I thought the corners of his rather uncompromising mouth twitched. But he quickly controlled them, and lifting the ladder down, began to drag it back across the grass.
“Oh, let me help!” Eve ran after him and seized the other end. Together they carried it as far as the wall. “I’ll just leave it here and pick it up in the morning when I go to work,” the boy remarked. Then with a nod in our direction, he again vaulted over the wall. We watched him climb into his seat and gather up the reins. “Well, so long,” he said.
Eve stood beside the wagon and gazed rapturously up at him. “Good-bye,” she said. “I suppose we shall never see you again but I shall always treasure your memory.”
“You talk a lot of nonsense, don’t you?” he remarked.
“Nonsense? Me? By the way, you aren’t going far with that wagon, I suppose?”
“I’m going home,” he stated stolidly. “And you’d better do the same if you’ve got any.”