"LOVE (AND SCHOOLGIRLS) LAUGH AT LOCKSMITHS"
"Here, I'm going to take command of affairs, since no one else seems
inclined to," cried Marie. "May, you are the strongest girl here; just
give me a shoulder, will you?"
"What shall I do?"
"Stand close to the wall underneath the window, and let me get on your
shoulder; it may hurt a bit, but we can't stay stived up in here all
night. Lend a hand, Ruth, and boost me up."
A step-ladder of knees and arms was formed, and up scrambled Marie as
nimbly as a squirrel. Then another obstacle confronted her. The window had
probably never been opened since it was built, and, having never been
called upon to do its share in the economy of that household, was
disinclined to begin now. Marie's slender fingers were dented and pinched
in vain; that window remained obdurate.
"For mercy sake come down and give the old thing up! My shoulder is
crushed flat," said May.
"Wait just one second longer, and I'll have it; see if I don't. Ruth, hand
me that stair-brush, please."
Ruth gave her the brush, and, saying to May: "Now, brace yourself for a
mighty push," she used the handle as a lever, gave a vigorous jerk, when
away went bolt, window, Marie and all. Down she came with a thud, but,
luckily, on a pile of sweeping cloths, which saved her from harm.
Scrabbling up, she cried: "Never mind, I'm not hurt a bit; now boost me up
again, and let me see what is outside."
She was promptly lifted up, and, poking her saucy head out into the
moonlight, drew in long whiffs of the sweet night air, which was
wonderfully refreshing after the stuffy closet.
"The shed is about ten feet below, girls. If I had anything to lower
myself down with I could easily reach it; I'm almost afraid to let myself
drop, the shed slopes so."
"Hang fast a second while Ruth and I tie the sweeping-cloths together,"
cried May, and quickly catching up the calico covers they began to tie
them together.
"See that you tie them tightly," warned Marie. "I've had one bump already,
and I don't want another."
The cloths were soon ready, and one end handed to her. She fastened it
securely about her waist, and, warning the others to hang on for dear
life, she began to crawl through the narrow opening.
"My goodness, she is just like a monkey," said Pauline. "I never could
have done it in the world," a most superfluous assertion, as no one in the
world would ever have suspected her of being able to.
Away went Marie, vanishing bit by bit from their sight till only her
laughing black eyes, with the soft dark hair above them, were visible in
the moonlight. The girls lowered away slowly, and presently felt the
strain upon the cloths relax.
"She's on the shed! Good!" said Edith, "and now she'll have us out in less
than jig time."
But "many's the slip twixt the--lip and the birthday box," and the girls
began to suspect Marie of treachery to the cause ere they again heard her
voice.
[Illustration: "AWAY WENT MARIE, VANISHING BIT BY BIT."]
Meantime, how fared it with her? Once upon the shed all seemed plain
sailing, but the shed was somewhat like the mountains Moses climbed so
wearily; it gave her a glimpse of the promised land without permitting her
to enter it. The ground was fully sixteen feet below her, and to reach it
without some means other than her own nimble legs was obviously
impossible. The shed was only a small one built out over the kitchen, but
just beyond, with perhaps five feet dividing them, was the end of the
piazza roof, and if she could only reach that she could let herself down
to the ground by the thick vines growing upon it. But those five feet
intervening looked a perfect gulf, and how to get over them was a poser.
Jump it she dared not; step it she could not. It began to look as though
she must signal to the girls in the closet to haul in their big fish, when
she chanced to spy something sticking up through the honeysuckle vines.
Crawling carefully down to the edge of the shed, she peered over, and saw
the ends of the gardener's ladder. Pauline had not made a mistake when she
called her a monkey, for in just one second she was at the bottom of that
ladder.
"Now I'm all right, and will soon have the girls free," and off she
scurried to the side of the house upon which Toinette's room was situated.
Gathering up a handful of soft earth she threw it against the window, but
with no result. Then a second one followed. Had she but known it, Toinette
and her revellers had long ago given them up, and were now down in the old
laundry spreading forth their array of goodies. After wasting considerable
time, Marie suddenly bethought her of the above fact, and instantly
skipped off to that Mecca.
There was not a ray of light visible, but, happily, sight is not the only
sense with which we are endowed, and Marie's ears were as keen as her
eyes. Giving the three signal taps upon one of the tightly closed
window-blinds, she waited a reply. But the girls were not expecting taps
from that quarter, and at once became suspicious. But precious moments
were fleeing, and Marie was becoming desperate, so, flinging prudence to
the winds, she gave three sounding bangs upon that window, and called
out:
"If you don't open this window and let me in I'll set Mother Stone on your
track, sure as you live!"
Open flew the window, and a moment later Marie was relating her
experiences to them. Then came the question of rescuing the others. Not an
easy one to answer. But Marie had gone so far, and, being a very
resourceful little body, had no notion of giving up yet, and saying to the
revellers: "I'm going to let those girls out if I have to take the door
down to do it," off she flitted, as quickly and silently as a butterfly.
In less time than it takes to tell it she stood outside their prison, and
saying, encouragingly: "Don't give up, girls; I'll soon have you out," she
slipped into the sewing-room opposite, and emerged a second later with the
little oil-can and screw-driver from the machine drawer.
"For gracious sake, what _are_ you going to do?" whispered Cicely, who had
come with her to help if possible.
"Something I once saw a carpenter at our house do, if I can. Sh! Don't
make any noise," and, reaching up to the top hinge, Marie dropped a few
drops of oil from her can upon it, and then treated the lower one in the
same manner. The hinges were what are known as "fish hinges," the door
being held in place by a small iron peg slipped into the sockets of the
hinge. After she had oiled them, she placed her screw-driver under the
knob of the peg, when, lo! up it slid as easily as could be, and when both
had been carefully slid out of place, nothing prevented the door from
being softly drawn away from the hinges, swung outward, and if it did not
open from left to right, as it had been intended to open, it was quite as
easy to walk through it when it opened from right to left. To slip it back
into place, when five giggling girls had escaped, was equally easy, and no
one would ever have suspected the skillful bit of mechanical engineering
that had taken place under their very noses at ten-thirty that night.