"Well, drop it to the basement and let me out," said Mr. Ludlow
sharply.

"Can't drop it," responded Freckles. "She's stuck."

Mr. Ludlow came and looked things over, but his knowledge did not
extend to the mechanism of elevators.

"Better call someone to come and take us out," he said nervously.

Freckles straightened himself up. A glitter had come into his small
grey eyes, and red spots were burning in his freckled cheeks.

"I think she'll run now," he said.

And she did run. Never in all its history had that State-house
elevator run as it ran then. It rushed past the first and second
floors like a thing let loose, with an utter abandonment that caused
the blood to forsake the eminent lobbyist's face.

"Stop it, boy!" he cried in alarm.

"Can't!" responded Freckles, his voice thick with terror. "Running
away!" he gasped.

"Will it--fall?" whispered the lobbyist.

"I--I think so!" blubbered Freckles.

The central portion of the State-house was very high. Above that