Throwing off the paralysis of fear which gripped her, Penny swung herself into the lowermost branch of the big trees. The package of lunch she had carried, dropped from her hand, falling at the base of the trunk.
Instantly, the rooters were upon it, tearing savagely at the meat and at each other. Sick with horror, Penny clung desperately to the tree limb.
“If I slip now, I’m a gonner!” she thought. “Those rooters are half starved. If I fall, they’ll attack me!”
Penny considered shouting for Louise, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Her chum probably was too far away to hear her cries. If she did come, unarmed as she was, she might leave the boardwalk only to endanger herself.
“Louise can’t help me,” Penny told herself. “I brought this on myself by not heeding Old Joe’s warning. Now it’s up to me to get out of the mess the best way I can.”
The girl lay still on the limb, trying not to draw the attention of the rooters. Once they finished the meat, she was hopeful they would go away. Then she could make a dash for the walk.
Grunting and squealing, the rooters devoured the meat and looked about for more. To Penny’s relief, they gradually wandered off—all except the old boar.
The leader of the pack stayed close to the big tree, eyeing the girl in the tree wickedly. Even in the dim light she could plainly see his evil little eyes and working jaws.
“Go away you big brute!” she muttered.
Penny’s perch on the limb was a precarious one and her arms began to ache from the strain of holding on. Unsuccessfully, she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.