“Things are happening,” cried Steingall. “I wish I had gone with them.”
“Oh, I hope my Jim won’t get hurt,” said Polly, somewhat pale now.
They heard more furious blows and the crash of glass.
“Confound it!” growled Steingall. “Why didn’t I go?”
“If I stood on the back of the car against the gate, and you climbed onto my shoulders, you might manage to stand between the spikes and jump down,” cried Polly desperately.
“Great Scott, but you’re the right sort of girl. The wall is too high, but the gate is possible. I’ll try it,” he answered.
With difficulty, having only slight knowledge of heavy cars, he backed the machine against the gate. Then the girl caught the top with her hands, standing on the back cushions.
Steingall was no light weight for her soft shoulders, but she uttered no word until she heard him drop heavily on the gravel drive within.
“Thank goodness!” she whispered. “There are three of them now. I only wish I was there, too!”