“Hold on to me, dear.” Nancy could not help offering the endearing term, for the red-haired girl surely was scoffing. And Rosa’s every attempt to seem grown up, her foolish little expressions, and her disregard of that sort of conduct which Nancy very well knew was Rosa’s natural manner just being held back, made the cousin all the more an object of affection to Nancy. She was now Rosa’s champion against this girl, Orilla.
“Showing off,” was what it all was, of course, but there was something more important to think of just now. Rosa was hurt, the Durands were not in sight and Nancy was simply frightened to death at the whole situation.
“Can’t you really get up?” asked Orilla, showing some concern herself now. She was holding the flash light over Rosa, and in the darkness its rays shone clear and remarkably bright for a thing so small. It picked out a mass of wicked briars and treacherous undergrowth into which Rosa had fallen.
“I can’t—stir—” she moaned. “There’s a regular rope of something around—my—leg. Oh-h-h!”
It was not hard to realize that a rope of something had indeed imprisoned the girl, for even the efforts of Orilla joining those of Nancy, failed to extricate the injured one.
“What—shall—we do!” breathed Nancy, more deeply concerned than she wished to admit even to herself. “However will we get her out of this?”
“Silly thing for her to get into,” grumbled the red-haired girl. “But I guess I can chop her out.”
“Chop her out!” exclaimed Nancy, incredulously.
“Yes. I’ve got tools. You stay here with her, and for goodness’ sake keep her quiet. My car is over on the road. I’ll be back as quickly as I can get here.”
Presently the two girls found themselves alone, in the dark, in that lonesome wood. Nancy was too frightened to do more than keep whispering courage to Rosa, and Rosa was too miserable to do more than groan.