"You seem to be embarrassed," John proceeded.
"Whatever shall I do?" confessed the young lady, looking at the barred door, at her charges about her, and at John.
John laid his hand upon the plank at the end where it projected beyond the edge of the little, coop-like vestibule, and gave it a tentative pull. It did not spring much. Burbeck's nails had been long, and he had driven them deep. But John was strong. He swung his weight upon the end of the plank and it gave a little. He swung harder, and it yielded more. Presently he heard a squeaking, protesting sound from the straining nails, and increased his efforts till the veins knotted on his forehead.
"Bet y' he can't," speculated an urchin whose chubby toes were frankly barefoot and energetically digging into the sod of the lawn.
"Bet yuh he will," instantly countered another, shifting his gum.
"Oh, I do hope you can!" sighed the fairy thing with the curls down her back and the eyes like the sky.
That settled it for John. This plank was coming off. Nevertheless, there was a pause while he mopped his brow and considered. The result of these considerations was to fall back for reinforcement on two cobbles of unequal size chosen from the gutter, the larger of which he used as a hammer while the smaller served as a wedge, till, with a final wrench, the plank came free.
But Elder Burbeck had locked the door.
"A hairpin?" queried John of the sky blue eyes.
"I have not come to hairpins yet," blushed the teacher of the infant class.