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Page 58
"I'm ready to go home," she said, looking up as they entered.
"This is finished, and, anyway, it's getting so dark I can't see
any more."
"Dark!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Why, it isn't five o'clock yet."
"I don't care what time it is," said Stella; "it's getting awfully
dark, just the same."
And sure enough it was, and a few glances at the sky showed the
reason. What was undoubtedly a severe thunderstorm was rapidly
approaching, and dark masses of cloud began to roll over each
other and pile up higher and higher toward the zenith.
"It's a thunder shower, that's what it is," declared Stella;
"let's scramble down the ladder quick, and run for home. Let's all
run to your house, Marjorie, it's nearer."
Midge and Molly looked at each other.
There was no help for it, so Marjorie said: "We can't go down the
ladder, Stella, because it's broken down."
"What! Who broke it?"
"We did," said Molly; "that is, we were playing with it and
somehow it broke itself. Of course, we didn't do it on purpose."
Stella's face turned white. "How shall we get down?" she said.
"We CAN'T get down," said Midge, cheerfully; "we'll have to stay
up. But the roof doesn't leak; I asked Uncle, and he said it was
perfectly watertight."
"But I don't want to stay up here in a storm," said Stella, and
her lips began to quiver.
"Now, don't you cry, Stella!" said Molly, who, if truth be told,
was on the verge of tears herself.
Meantime, the darkness was rapidly increasing. It was one of those
sudden showers where a black pall of cloud seems to envelop the
whole universe, and the very air takes on a chill that strikes a
terror of its own, even to a stout heart.
The three little girls sat looking at each other in despair.
Each was very much frightened, but each was trying to be brave. It
had all happened so suddenly that they had even yet scarcely
realized that they were in real danger, when suddenly a terrible
clap of thunder burst directly above their heads, accompanied by a
blinding flash of lightning.
Stella screamed and then burst into wild crying; Molly turned
white and gritted her teeth in a determination not to cry; while
Marjorie, with big tears rolling down her cheeks, put her arms
around Stella in a vain endeavor to comfort her.
Molly crept up to the other two, and intertwining their arms, the
three huddled together, shivering with fear and dismay.
One after another, the terrible thunderbolts crashed and rolled,
and the fearful lightning glared at intervals.
Then, with a swish and a splash, the rain began. It came down in
gusty torrents, and dashed in at the open windows like a spray.
Molly and Marjorie jumped up and flew to shut the windows, but
Stella remained crouched in a pathetic little heap.
"Somebody will come to get us," whispered Molly, trying to be
hopeful and to cheer the others.
"No, they won't," said Marjorie, despairingly; "for Grandma thinks
I'm over at Stella's, and your mother thinks you're there, too."
"Yes, but Stella's mother will hunt us up; somebody is SURE to
come," persisted Molly.
"No, she won't," said a weak little voice; "for I told Mother that
we might stay home this afternoon, and we might go over to
Molly's. And she'll think we're over there."
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