It was like the irregular rattle of sticks on the rim
of a snare-drum. The tapping ceased and a moment later a similar
sound, barely audible, came out of the distance.
Sprouse clutched his companion's arm and, dropping to his knees in the
thick underbrush, pulled the other down after him.
Presently heavy footsteps approached. An unseen pedestrian passed
within ten yards of them. They scarcely breathed until the sounds
passed entirely out of hearing. Sprouse put his lips close to Barnes's
ear.
"Telegraph," he whispered. "It's a system they have of reporting to
each other. There are two men patrolling the grounds near the house.
You see what we're up against, Barnes. Do you still want to go on with
it? If you are going to funk it, say so, and I'll go alone."
"I'll stay by you," replied Barnes sturdily.
"In about ten minutes that fellow will come back this way. He follows
the little path that winds down--but never mind. Stay where you are,
and don't make a sound, no matter what happens. Understand? No matter
what happens!" He arose and swiftly, noiselessly, stole away from his
companion's side. Barnes, his eyes accustomed to the night, either saw
or imagined that he saw, the shadowy hulk press forward for a dozen
paces and then apparently dissolve in black air.
Pages:
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235