THE PRISONERS OF THE TOWER
"Fire!" cried Percy Havel. "Oh! what _shall_ we do?"
"Well, your yelling about it won't put it out," snapped Frank.
But Dave Shepard had sprung up the ladder and immediately announced the
trouble.
"The axle is getting overheated. See that can of oil yonder, Ferd? Come
out of your trance and do something useful, boy! Quick! hand me the
can."
But it was Wyn who got it to him. Dave quickly refilled the oil cups and
squirted some of the lubricant into the cracks about the shaft. The
smoke immediately drifted away.
"The rest of you go up where it's cooler," he commanded. "I will remain
here and play engineer. And for goodness' sake, pray for the wind to die
down!"
The situation was really serious; nobody among the prisoners of the
tower knew what to do.
While the wind swung the arms of the mill round and round, there was no
chance to get out. Not that they did not all cudgel their brains within
the next hour to that end. There were enough suggestions made to lead to
a dozen escapes; only--none of the suggestions were practical.
It was less noisy, now that Dave had stopped the millstones; but the
building continued to tremble, and the great wheel to creak.
"What a donkey the man was to let them cut his door right behind the
arms," exclaimed Frankie.
"And with no proper means of stopping the sails from inside, once the
wind began to blow," added Percy.
"No. That's my fault," admitted Ferdinand. "I broke the gear some way."
"Well, if we only had an axe," said one of the other boys, "we might cut
our way out of the building on the side opposite the door."
But Dave had already searched the mill for tools. There wasn't even a
rope. Had there been, they could have let themselves down from the high
window to the ground.
"It should be against the law to build windmills without proper
fire-escapes," declared Frank, trying to laugh.
But it was hard to joke about the matter. It looked altogether too
serious.
The wind continued to blow steadily--a little harder, indeed, as time
passed; but the sun grew hotter. It came noon, and they knew that those
at Green Knoll Camp had long since expected them back.
Finally a figure appeared upon the path far down the hill. They
recognized Tubby Blaisdell trudging painfully up the slope in the hot
sun, evidently an unwilling messenger from Mrs. Havel and Professor
Skillings.
They began to shout to Tubby, although they knew very well it was
useless. He couldn't have heard their voices down there, even if the
windmill hadn't made so much noise.
But the girls fluttered their hats from the window and, bye and bye, the
stolid fat youth, glancing up while he mopped his brow, caught sight of
the signals. He halted, glared up at the window from under his hand, and
then hurried his steps.
"Oh, you Tubby!" shouted Frank, at last, thrusting her tousled curls out
of the window. "Can't you help us?"
He heard these words, and looked more bewildered than ever.
"Say! what do you want?" he bellowed up at them. "Don't ask me to climb
up those ladders, for I can't. And Mrs. Havel and the prof. say for you
to come back to camp. They think a storm is coming. Besides--aren't you
hungry?"
"Hungry! why, Tub," yelled down Ferd, "if we could only get at you, we'd
eat you alive!"
Tubby looked more than a little startled, and glanced behind him to see
that the way of retreat was clear.
"Well, why don't you come down and get your lunch, then?" demanded young
Blaisdell.
"We can't," said Wyn, and she explained their predicament.
"Can't stop those sails?" gasped Tubby. "Why--why--Where's the man who
owns the old contraption?"
They explained further. Tubby went around to the other side and caught a
glimpse of Dave playing engineer. The chums shouted back and forth to
each other for some time.
Tubby wanted to see if he couldn't stop the sails by making a grab at
them.
"You do it, Tubby, and the blamed things will throw you a mile through
the air," declared Dave. "Besides, we don't want to smash the farmer's
mill. We have done enough harm as it is. So, there's no use in backing
one of those heavy wagons into it and wrecking the sails. No. I guess
we've got to stand it here for a while."
They heard one of the girls calling, and Tubby lumbered around to see
Frankie gesticulating from the window.
"Oh, Tubby! don't leave us to starve--and we're so _awfully_
thirsty, too," cried Wyn, pushing her friend to one side. "Get us a
bucket of water from the well, first of all."
"Gee! how am I going to get it up to you--throw it?" cackled the fat
youth.
"You get the bucket--and a rope," commanded Wyn.
"But if he can throw a rope up to us, we can get out of this fix,"
Ferdinand cried. "Can't we, Dave?" he asked of his captain, who had come
up the ladders for a breath of fresh air.
"Tubby couldn't throw a coil of rope for a cent. He couldn't learn to
use a lasso, you know."
"And we girls could not get down on a rope," objected Bess.
"We could lower you," Ferd declared.
"It would have to be a pretty strong rope," said Dave. "And maybe there
isn't anything bigger than clothes line about the farm."
Which proved to be the case. At least, Tubby could find nothing else and
finally brought the brimming bucket and the line he had found on the
drying green behind the farmhouse.
"I can't throw the thing up so high," complained Tubby, after two or
three attempts.
"Wait!" commanded Wyn.
"Hold on! Wynnie's great mind is at work."
"Everybody sit down and unlace his or her shoes. I want the lacings,"
declared Wynifred.
"Hurray!" exclaimed Ferd. "Wait a bit, Tubby; don't wear your poor
little self to a grease spot trying to throw that rope over the mill."
Tubby, nothing loath, sat down and breathed heavily. The day _was_
hot in spite of the high wind.
Wyn got all the shoe strings and tied them together, with a bolt
fastened to the lower end for a sinker, and let it down to the ground.
There Tubby attached the end of the clothes line and they pulled it up.
It was long enough, and strong enough, and Dave carefully raised the
bucket of water--and oh! how good it tasted to the thirsty prisoners.
They were all provided with cups, for the Academy teachers and the
Denton mothers were rather insistent on that point.
"But, oh, golly!" burst forth Frank, "if they'd only made us always
carry an emergency ration."
"We didn't expect to be cast away on a desert island in this fashion,"
said Dave.
But Wyn had another idea.
"There are melons on the back porch. I saw them there this morning. Go
get us a lot, Tubby. Send 'em up by the bucket-full. And there are
tomatoes in the garden, and some summer apples on that tree by the fence
corner. We'll make it all right with Mrs. Prosser. Why, say! we sha'n't
starve."
"I'll get you some eggs if you want 'em," suggested the willing youth.
"I hear the hens cackling."
But all objected to raw eggs and thought the melons and fresh tomatoes
would suffice.
"You go back to camp and report," ordered Dave, through the window. "The
prof, and Mrs. Havel will be having conniption fits if these girls don't
show up pretty soon. Tell 'em we're all right--but goodness knows we
want the wind to stop blowing."
It did not seem, however, as though the wind had any such intention.
After Tubby Blaisdell departed it blew even stronger.
It was hard to keep the whole party in good temper. The imprisonment was
getting on their nerves. Besides, the sky was growing darker, although
it was not yet mid-afternoon; and not long after the fat youth was out
of sight, heavy drops of rain began to fall.
Rather, the wind whipped the raindrops in at the tower window. Patter,
patter, patter, they fell, faster and faster, and in the distance
thunder rumbled.
The picnicking farmers should be home ahead of this storm; yet, if they
came, they could not stop the sails of the windmill. The shaft groaned
and smoked, but Dave kept the oil cups filled.
Nearer and nearer came the thunder, and the lightning began to flash.
Some of the girls were frightened. Nor was this a pleasant place in
which to be imprisoned during an electrical storm. The tall, revolving
arms seemed just the things to attract the lightning.
They all were glad--boys as well as girls--to retire to the ground floor
of the mill while the elements shrieked overhead and the rain pounded
upon the roof and the sails. It was really a most unpleasant situation.