The answer was a desperate scratching in the dirt under the door, which had no sill. Betsy could hear the dirt fly, as Van worked madly to get in to his mistress. An inspiration leaped in her brain.
“He’s digging under to get in to me. Why can’t I dig, and get out to him?”
It was the one chance. She looked around the bare little room. Nothing there, except a small rusted stove in one corner, now falling to pieces, and the floor was simply the dirt of the clearing. Not a thing to dig with. Yes, there was one thing, the lid on the top of the little stove. It was red and eaten with rust, but still stout enough for service.
“Now,” she said, as she settled to work, “we’ll make the hole big enough in no time, and if Pa doesn’t get back too soon!——”
She wasted no more breath on words. The old stove-lid proved an effective instrument in the light earth. Together they worked; Betsy inside and Van outside the old door. If her father came back before the hole was big enough, he might kill Van, and she would never get back to the Hill-Top. Desperately she worked; her breath coming in little sobbing gasps that caught and choked her. With nervous, trembling hands she dug down, and down. The ground had been packed by the tramp of the quarry-men in days past, but the earth-worms had lightened the soil a little, and it was possible, even with the mean tool she held, to dig into it.
Soon a black muzzle was in sight; a few more strokes on either side, and Van had wriggled through and was in her aching arms.
But she must not stop. She must keep on digging. Van seemed to understand. He did not bark, but stood, alert and eager, waiting.
Now Betsy could get her head through the hole, now her shoulders; then a few more frantic strokes of the old stove-lid, and she dragged her whole body through the opening. Her pretty dress was torn and earthstained, but she was free!
A light rain was beginning to fall; she did not mind that, only there were no long afternoon shadows to point the way home, and even the little country-bred Betsy was quite lost. Which way should she turn? In any case she must get out of the clearing and into the woods where her father could not find her.
She started to run to shelter, but Van gave a short, quick bark, and ran in the other direction. Then he came back, and off again, as if he would have her follow him.