cried the other girl, her eyes flashing.

It took Ruth several minutes to quiet this sea of trouble. It was half an
hour before Amy cried herself to sleep on her couch. The other girls had
both crept into bed and called to Ruth sleepily to put out the light. Ruth
was not undressed; but she did as they requested.

Then she went to the window and opened it. Nothing had been heard from
above since Mrs. Smith had looked in at the chamber door. But Ruth was
sure the grim old woman was waiting at her grandson's window, in the cold
shed bedroom, ready for Curly when he came in.

And Ruth was sure, too, that the boy had not dropped to the ground. _He
was still on the roof_.

"That was a tictac," Ruth told herself. She had heard Tom Cameron's too
many times to mistake the sound. "And Amy was expecting it. Curly had told
her what he was going to do. And now what will that reckless boy do, with
his grandmother waiting for him and every other window in the house
locked?"

"What are you doing there, Ruthie?" grumbled Ann. "O-o-oh! it's cold," and
she drew her comforter up around her shoulders and the next moment she was
asleep.

Helen never lay awake after her head touched the pillow, so Ruth did not
look for any questioning on her chum's part. And Amy had already wept
herself unhappily into dreamland.

"Poor kiddie!" thought Ruth, casting a commiserating glance again at Amy.
"And now for this silly boy. If the girls knew what I was going to do
they'd have a spasm, I expect," and she chuckled.

She leaned far out of the open window again, and, sitting on the
window-sill, turned her body so as to look up the slant of the steep roof.

"Curly!" she called softly. No answer. "Curly Smith!" she raised her voice
decisively. "If you don't come here I'll call your grandmother."

A figure appeared slowly from behind a chimney. Even at that distance Ruth
could see the figure shiver.

"Wha--what do you want?" asked the boy, shakingly.

"Come here, you silly boy!" commanded Ruth. "Do you want to get your death
of cold?"

"I--I----"

"Come down here at once! And don't fall, for pity's sake," was Ruth's
warning, as the boy's foot slipped. "My goodness! you haven't any shoes
on--and no cap--and just that thin coat. Curly Smith! you'll be down sick
after this."

"I'll be sick if Gran' catches me," admitted the boy. "She's layin' for me
at my window."

"I know," said Ruth, as the boy crept closer.

"You telltale girls told her