"The confounded thing is broken!" announced Dave, in disgust. "Goodness me!" cried Frank. "I want to get out of here." She started for the door; but Wyn grabbed her just in time. Past the open door whirled the sails of the mill--one after the other--faster and faster. And so close were the sails to the doorway that there was not room for the very smallest of the Go-Ahead girls to get out without being struck. Dave stared around at the others. It was almost impossible to hear each other speak--and what was there to say? Each boy and girl realized the situation in which Ferd's meddling had placed them. Until the wind subsided they were prisoners in the tower. Ferd Roberts subsided into a corner, and hid his face in his hands. He had done something that scared his inquisitive soul to the very bottom. He had started the sails, and then, in trying to throw out the clutch, he had started the millstones as well. _They_ made most of this noise that almost deafened them. Finally, however, Dave pushed the power belt from the flywheel, and the stones stopped turning; but there was no way of stopping the sails. To step outside the door was to court instant death, and until the wind stopped blowing it seemed as though there would be no escape. "And the wind blows sometimes two or three days at a stretch!" cried Frankie. "It's lucky Tubby isn't up here with us," Dave said, grimly. "He would want to cast lots at once to see which one of the party should be eaten first." "Ugh! don't joke like that, Dave," begged Mina. "Maybe we _will_ be dreadfully hungry before we get out of this place." "I'm hungry now," announced Frankie. "It _is_ near time for luncheon," agreed Wyn. "'Luncheon'! Huh!" ejaculated Dave. "I s'pose that's the feminine of 'lunch.' I could eat a stack of pancakes and a whole can of beans right now. I'm too hungry for any mere 'luncheon.'" "Oh, dear! It's so hot down here," sighed Percy. "If we've got to stay, let's go upstairs again, where there is some air stirring." "Let's wave a signal from the window. Maybe somebody will see it and come to our rescue," suggested Frank. "And what could they do?" demanded Wyn, "These sails can't be stopped from the outside; can they, Dave?" "Not that I know of," replied Dave. "If there was a tree near, a fellow might tie a kedge rope to it, and then throw the kedge over one of the arms. But that would tear the machinery all to pieces, I suppose, it would stop it with such a jerk." Just then Mina Everett uttered a shrill cry of alarm. "Look! Look!" she cried. "It's afire! We'll burn up in here! Oh, oh, Wynnie! what shall we do?" The others turned, aghast There _was_ blue smoke spurting out around the shaft above their heads. CHAPTER XXII THE PRISONERS OF THE TOWER "Fire!" cried Percy Havel. "Oh! what _shall_ we do?" "Well, your yelling about it won't put it out," snapped Frank. But Dave Shepard had sprung up the ladder and immediately announced the trouble.