The pile of logs which lay at the side of the tool-house was not hard to climb, and they had more than once played upon it with their brothers, and now they mounted upon it, and put their two little faces close to the wooden bars which crossed the small window. It was growing late, and the tool-house was rather dark, but they could just see the boy's figure as he sat all in a heap upon the floor. As the little light which came through the bars was partly darkened by the two small faces, he started up, saying roughly, "Clear out now!"
At this, Maggie ducked, fearing she scarcely knew what; but Bessie, though she also was rather frightened, held her ground, and said, gently,—
"We want to speak to you, Lem."
"None of your speaking. Be off with you, will you?" said the boy, looking around for something he might throw at the window.
But there was nothing on which he could lay his hands. Mr. Porter had taken care to carry off every thing which could possibly be turned to mischief.
"But we are going to do you a favor," said Bessie.
"I want none of your favors; let me alone now," answered Lem.
"But we are going to do it to you whether you think you want it or not," said Bessie; "'cause you will be glad of it. We are going to ask Mr. Porter to let you out. Will you promise not to steal any more, Lem?"
"I didn't touch your cup," said Lem.