It was hornets, wasn't it, Bob?"
"Hornets was what he said," repeated Barkhouse stolidly.
"Where's Dicky now?" I asked.
"I ain't good at guessing," said Porter, "and Bob's nothing at all at
it."
"Well," said I, "we had better go down to Borton's and look into this
matter."
There was silence for a time. My guards walked beside me without
speaking, but I felt the protest in their manner. At last Barkhouse
said respectfully:
"There's no use to do that, sir. You'd better send some one that ain't
so likely to be nabbed, or that won't matter much if he is. We'd be in
a pretty fix if you was to be took."
"Here comes Dicky, now," said Porter, as a dark figure came swinging
lightly along.
"Hullo!" cried Dicky, halting and shading his eyes from the gaslight.
"I was just going up to look for you again."
"What's up, Dicky?"
"I guess it's the devil," said Dicky, so gravely that I broke into a
laugh.
"He's right at home if he's come to this town," I said.
"I'm glad you find it so funny," said Dicky in an injured tone. "You
was scared enough last time."
I had put my foot in it, sure enough. I might have guessed that the
devil was not his Satanic Majesty but some evil-minded person in the
flesh whom I had to fear.
"Can it be Doddridge Knapp?" flashed across my mind but I dismissed the
suspicion as without foundation. I spoke aloud:
"Well, I've kept out of his claws this far, and it's no use to worry.
What's he trying to do now?"
"That's what I've been trying to find out all the evening.
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