He had not realized before
that they had climbed so high or so far.
Joe Pollard was humming. Terry joined him on the way to the house with a
deepened sense of awe; he was even beginning to feel that there was a
touch or two of mystery in the make-up of the man.
Proof of the solidity with which the log house was built was furnished at
once. Coming to the house, there was only a murmur of voices and of
music. The moment they opened the door, a roar of singing voices and a
jangle of piano music rushed into their ears.
Terry found himself in a very long room with a big table in the center
and a piano at the farther end. The ceiling sloped down from the right to
the left. At the left it descended toward the doors of the kitchen and
storerooms; at the right it rose to the height of two full stories. One
of these was occupied by a series of heavy posts on which hung saddles
and bridles and riding equipment of all kinds, and the posts supported a
balcony onto which opened several doors--of sleeping rooms, no doubt. As
for the wall behind the posts, it, too, was pierced with several
openings, but Terry could not guess at the contents of the rooms.
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