"Jiggered if I know," spoke Jimsy; "can't you or Roy think of anything?"
"We might try to batter the door down with that table," suggested Roy.
"It's worth trying. We've got to get out of here somehow."
The two boys picked up the heavy, roughly made table and commenced a
violent assault on the door. But although they dented it heavily, and
sent some splinters flying, the portal held its own. At length they
desisted from pure weariness. The situation looked hopeless.
"It looks pretty bad," spoke Jimsy.
"It does indeed," agreed Roy. "Peggy, I wish we hadn't brought you
along."
"And why, pray, Roy Prescott?"
"Oh, because--because, well, this isn't the sort of thing for a girl."
"Well, I guess if my brother can stand it I can," rejoined the girl,
pluckily and in a firm voice.
"Well, there's no use minimizing the fix we're in," declared Roy. "This
is a lonesome bit of country. It may be a week before anyone will come
around. We've just got to get out, that's all there is to it."
"I wish you'd solve the problem then," sighed Jimsy; "it's too much
for me.
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