A Broken Water Pipe
Judy hesitated only a minute. Somehow, she felt she and Horace ought to have Dick’s permission before they did anything as drastic as breaking down the door to his prison.
“Is it all right?” she called, but there was no answer.
They waited a moment more. The beam was ready, but was the prisoner ready to meet their onslaught? When there was no sound other than the rushing of water overhead and the constant drip, drip from the leaky pipes, they shouted a second warning.
“Keep away from the door!”
With this they rushed ahead, but on the first try they succeeded only in cracking a lower door panel. A moan from inside told them the prisoner had been disturbed by the commotion. But still he said nothing in answer to their calls.
A second assault brought forth more moans. Judy became worried. “Let’s not try that again, Horace,” she pleaded. “If he’s fallen against the door we could really hurt him. There must be a better way.”
“If there is,” her brother said, “I’m sure I can’t think of it. We won’t hurt him if he keeps back—”
“But can he? I’m afraid he may have fainted. The floor is all wet from those dripping pipes. If he’s fallen face down in the water—”
“We have to get him out,” Horace finished. “We agree on that.”