"Yeth, oh, yeth! I'll be good. I'll do whatever you tell me. But
thave me. Pleathe thave me!" sobbed the unhappy little Tommy.
"Stop clawing. Let your body hang limp. Don't make a move, and keep
quiet. You confuse us. Remember, if you struggle you are likely to
pull us over with you. I am going to get something; then I shall try
to pull you up. Hazel and Margery, stay close to Miss Elting. Miss
Elting, will you look after them while I go to hunt a stick?"'
"Come over here by me, girls," commanded the guardian in response to
the request. "Now, stand perfectly still. Tommy's life may depend
upon your doing only what you are told. A Meadow-Brook Girl is a sort
of soldier, and a soldier is not a good soldier unless he can take and
obey orders."
Hazel was trembling a little, Margery a great deal, but the words of
the guardian served to quiet and steady both girls.
Harriet came running toward them, carrying a round stick, a piece from
a small sapling that the guide had picked up for firewood. This she
cautiously slipped under the rope at the edge of the shelf, prying the
rope up a little in order to do so, thus sending Tommy into a fresh
outburst of terror when she felt the added movement of the rope.
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