She checked him with wild whisperings that yet served to draw him to her prison.
He was dumbfounded, quite as much as by her fiercely tragic voice as by the amazing predicament in which he found her.
"Help me out!" she commanded him. "And don't make the least sound. Uncle Si is next door, and if he finds me here, something terrible will happen."
Such force and such anxiety had one at least of the results so much to be desired. They forbade the asking of futile questions. Every moment was precious if she was to make good her escape.
William in this crisis proved himself a right good fellow. His sense of the ludicrous was keen, but he stifled it. Moreover, a legitimate curiosity had been fully aroused, but he stifled that also as he proceeded to carry out these imperious orders. But even with such ready and stalwart help, June was to learn again that it was no easy matter to escape from the Hoodoo.
Without venturing to speak again, William mounted the gate-legged table and offered both hands to the prisoner. But the trouble was that she was so tightly pinned that she could not raise hers to receive them. And it was soon fatally clear that so long as the Hoodoo kept the perpendicular it would be impossible for any external agent to secure a hold upon the body wedged within its jaws.
After several attempts at dislodgement had miserably failed, June gasped in a kind of anguish: "Do you think you can tip this thing over—very gently—without making a sound?"
This was trying William highly indeed, but it seemed the only thing to be done. Happily he was tall and
