"
On a sudden turn the house loomed up before us, and a wild clamor of
dogs broke the stillness of the night.
"I hope they are tied," I said, with a poor attempt to conceal my
misgivings.
"We'll have a lively time in a quarter of a minute if they aren't,"
laughed Dicky, as he followed me.
But the baying and barking came no nearer, and I helped Mrs. Knapp out
of the carriage. She looked at the house closely.
"This is the place," she said, in an unmistakable tone of decision. "We
must be quick. I wish something would quiet those dogs; they will bring
the whole country out."
It seemed an hour before we could raise any one, but it may not have
been three minutes before a voice came from behind the door.
"Who's there?"
"It is L. M. K.," said Mrs. Knapp; then she added three words of
gibberish that I took to be the passwords used to identify the friends
of the boy.
At the words there was the sound of bolts shooting back, and the heavy
door opened enough to admit us. As we passed in, it was closed once
more and the bolts shot home.
Before us stood a short, heavy-set man, holding a candle. His face,
which was stamped with much of the bulldog look in it, was smooth-
shaven except for a bristling brown mustache. He looked inquiringly at
us.
"Is he here--the boy?" cried Mrs. Knapp, her voice choked with anxiety.
"Yes," said the man. "Do we move again?" He seemed to feel no surprise
at the situation, and I inferred that it was not the first time he had
changed quarters on a sudden at the darkest hour of the night.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316