"I've been all the way round," he said; "there are three or four
entrances to this mansion, and all have bells, but nobody answered
my various and insistent ringings. WHAT shall us do now, poor
things?"
"I suppose they're afraid we're burglars," observed Patty; "and
they're afraid to let us in."
"If they don't come pretty soon, I WILL be a burglar," declared
Bill, "and I'll get in in burglar fashion. It isn't fair for
people to have a warm, dry house, and keep forlorn wet people out
of it. We've GOT to get in! Let's bang on the doors."
But no amount of banging and pounding, no shaking of door knobs,
no whistling or shouting served to bring response.
"Throw pebbles at the window," Patty suggested, and immediately a
young hailstorm bombarded the second-story panes.
"No good!" commented Bill. "So here goes!" and without further
warning his large and well-aimed foot crashed through a long front
window which reached down to the floor.
"Oh, my gracious!" exclaimed Patty. "WHAT a thing to do!"
"The only way is the best way," returned Bill, gaily. "Now, wait a
minute, you girls, I'll let you in."
Carefully looking out for the broken glass, Big Bill inserted his
hand, sprung back the catch, and opened the window.
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