With the
feeling that there was danger in the air of Craterville--for him--there
came a nervous setting of the muscles, a desire to close on someone and
throttle the secret of this hostility. At this point he heard a light
tapping at the door. Terry sat bolt upright on the bed.
There are all kinds of taps. There are bold, heavy blows on the door that
mean danger without; there are careless, conversational rappings; but
this was a furtive tap, repeated after a pause as though it contained a
code message.
First there was a leap of fear--then cold quiet of the nerves. He was
surprised at himself. He found himself stepping into whatever adventure
lay toward him with the lifting of the spirits. It was a stimulus.
He called cheerfully: "Come in!"
And the moment he had spoken he was off the bed, noiselessly, and half
the width of the room away. It had come to him as he spoke that it might
be well to shift from the point from which his voice had been heard.
The door opened swiftly--so swiftly was it opened and closed that it made
a faint whisper in the air, oddly like a sigh. And there was no click of
the lock either in the opening or the closing.
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