Prisoners in Devil's Bog

  CHAPTER XXII

  DEVLIN'S RETURN

  Nickie slept after a long time but Skippy was not so fortunate. Notuntil the storm settled down into a steady pattering rain with theearly morning hours did he find himself dozing, yet always wakingsuddenly, trembling, and with his heart beating rapidly in his breast.

  During one of these quiet intervals in which he was dozing, he thoughthe dreamed that he heard the sound of a car. He did not wake at once,but kept listening for it again in a more or less semi-conscious state.Suddenly, however, he was sure that he heard footsteps down in thekitchen.

  For a moment he felt frozen with terror. Then he gathered himselftogether and shook Nickie firmly. "Don't speak, Nickie!" he whispered."Just _lissen_!"

  Nickie was wide awake and alert, but he did not move a muscle. "I hearit, kid," he murmured. "Somebuddy in the kitchen."

  "Yep. I'm frozen like."

  "Me too. What'll we do, hah?"

  "Stay where we are when we ain't got a light."

  "Right. I forgot. Who d'you think tis?"

  "_Lissen!_"

  They listened intently. A muffled cough, the sound of somethingmetallic falling, nothing escaped them. The footsteps were measured andheavy and seemed to circle the kitchen interminably.

  "Sounds like _him_, kid!" Nickie whispered fearfully. "I know them bigfeeta his'n. He's got the biggest dogs I ever seen. Ever notice?"

  "Nope." Skippy thought how queer that Nickie should speak of suchdetails at a fearful time like this. But people did that--he wasbeginning to realize that one was apt to say and do almost anythingstrange in moments of distress.

  "Say, kid!"

  "Yeah?"

  "If it's _him_ ... what bout that lock I picked in his room ... whatabout the ladder?"

  "I been thinkin'," Skippy answered breathlessly. "Lissen, Nick--youdon't know nothin' bout that lock, neither do I! Frost said sump'nabout how he lost his keys when he was beatin' it with Shorty andBiff--get me? He musta picked the lock himself. We found the door thatway when we come upstairs after they blew. We were lookin' for a ladderto go up in the attic--we wanted to go up an' snoop round for sump'n todo. We seen the closet door standin' open an' there was the ladder."

  "Oke, kid. But s'pose he's leary bout us wantin' to go up in the attic?"

  "I gotta hunch he won't be--much. We didn't wedge the bar enough so'she'd notice it less he went up an' looked close. Even then he'd knowit'd be too far to jump out the winder an' he won't get wise bout thetree less he sees the rope. Gee whiz, I'm glad I hid it, I am."

  "I could cry, I'm so glad, kid. This racket's too spooky for me tothink up an alibi quick. Holy smoke, you're a life-saver!"

  At heart, Skippy felt no such assurance. He was shaking from head tofoot and he dreaded Devlin as he dreaded Death. He shuddered at theunconscious simile and wondered if the very thought itself did notportend the evil which Timmy had come back to warn them of.

  Nickie's cold, clammy hand stole over and grasped his trembling wrist.Unashamed, they interlaced their fingers and clasped them so firmlythat it hurt. Nevertheless, they derived a sort of comfort from thecontact and breathed more freely even after the heavy feet belowtramped out of the kitchen and they heard the measured tread into thehall.

  "He's comin', I bet!" Skippy whispered feverishly.

  Nickie was mumbling a prayer that his aunt had taught him in babyhood,a prayer that he thought he had forgotten long ago. He dared not speak,nor think, for fear of screaming and acting like a weak, hystericalgirl. The prayer and Skippy's warm fingers pressing against his ownkept him from losing his head entirely.

  Then they heard the footsteps on the stair!

  Skippy listened, his head numb and his body trembling. The house seemedto shake with the vibration of each step. To the frightened boys itsounded like a dirge, for the stairs creaked and groaned and theflooring, rotting with age and disuse, emitted eerie thumpingsthroughout the dismal house.

  The darkness added much to their terrible fear, for they could not seeeach other and it had the effect of seeming to make them the morehelpless. Skippy felt during those terrible seconds that he would notbe able to raise a hand in his own defense.

  So they waited, counting each heavy step and listening with increasingdread as they came nearer. It seemed to take an interminable time forthose feet to span the distance between the top of the stairway and thedoor of their room. They squeezed each other's fingers tensely.

  At last the footsteps ceased--not at their door, but across the hall!

  Skippy gulped hard. Whoever it was, he was discovering that the doorhad been opened, the lock picked ... now he knew that his memorandumbook was gone ... now he had noticed that the ladder had been takenfrom the closet.

  They heard him rush out of the room and to the rear of the hall wherethey had left the ladder standing propped against the attic opening.Skippy could see the feeble glimmer of the lantern as it cast a lonelyray under their door.

  Time stood still after that; they seemed to be in a state of suspendedanimation. Skippy could not hear Nickie breathe; Nickie listened invain for a heart beat from Skippy's breast. The only sound that reachedtheir ears was that of the rushing footsteps coming back now along thehall and suddenly stopping before their door.

  Then the doorknob rattled.

  The door did not give, of course; the bed was too tightly jammedagainst it. The boys waited and presently they knew that there was adesperate effort being made to open the door, for the bed vibrated fromthe impact. Finally there came a furious pounding on the oaken panel.

  "Fallon--Kid?" the familiar, deep voice called insistently. "You boysthere?"

  Skippy felt then that his time had come.