She was gone.
“Sally Scott! How did you get down that way?” Nancy exclaimed as Sally came racing up the second story ladder, instead of coming down from the attic.
“I—I found a new way to get down and, and I found a nice new boy,” Sally panted. “He wants to buy us a coke. Come on, let’s go.”
“Sally, you didn’t,” Nancy protested. “Besides, there’s a scratch on your face. It’s bleeding.”
“All right then, I didn’t.” Sally dabbed at her cheek. “You won’t believe me if I tell you the truth.”
“Try me.”
“All right then, after I got the wire all fixed. I fell off the roof, landed in a tree and hung to a branch as long as I could and what do you think?”
“A nice boy caught you. And you expect me to believe that?”
“All right, then don’t. Anyway the wire is up.”
“And now we can get London, Paris, and Berlin. Come on. Let’s try.”