ly
so used while the races were being held at the Harrimay Track. Then
the folding aerials were raised and made use of. The cry for help that
had been broadcasted and which Jessie and Amy had heard might have
been sent out from this station some night when Martha Poole or her
friends had neglected to shut off the aerial by dropping it flat upon
the roof of the tower.

The question now was, had Bertha stolen her way into the tower at that
time, or was she held prisoner there? Evidently Martha Poole and Sadie
Bothwell were determined to hold the girl until after the court had
settled in their favor the Ellison will case.

Jessie and those with her came to the foot of the tower. All the lower
windows were boarded up and the door was tightly closed. There were
shades at the upper windows, and they fitted tightly.

"You call Bertha, honey," said Jessie. "Tell her we've come to let her
out. Did you try that door, Darry?"

"Not much! We don't want to be arrested for trying to commit
burglary."

"Shout for Bertha, Henrietta," commanded Jessie.

Immediately the little girl set up a yell that, as Burd declared,
could have scarcely been equaled by a steam calliope.

"Bertha! Bertha Haney! Come out and see my new dress!"

That invitation certainly delighted Amy and Burd. They sat in the car
and clung to each other while they laughed. Little Henrietta's face
got rosy red while she shouted, and she was very much in earnest.

"Bertha! Bertha Haney! Don't you hear me? I got a new dress! And we've
come to take you home. Bertha!"

Suddenly the lower door of the tower opened a crack. An old, old
woman, and not at all a pleasant looking woman, appeared at the
crack.

"What you want?" she demanded. "Go 'way! Martha Poole didn't send you
here."

Jessie spoke up briskly. "We've come to see Bertha. This is her little
cousin. You won't refuse to let her see Bertha, will you?"

"There ain't nobody here but a sick girl. She ain't to be let out. She
ain't right in her head."

"I guess that is what is the matter with you," said Darry Drew,
sternly. He had come nearer, and now, before the woman could shut the
door, he thrust his foot between it and the jamb. "We're going to see
Bertha Blair. Out of the way!"

He thrust back the door and the old woman with it. They heard a
muffled voice calling from upstairs. Little Henrietta flashed by the
guardian of the tower and darted upstairs.

"Bertha! Bertha! I'm coming, Bertha! I got a