CHAPTER XVI

  VISITORS OF THE NIGHT

  Chester bounded out of bed and hunted to the door, which he unlocked andopened for a few inches. He could see nothing in the gloom, and asked ina whisper:

  "Who is it?"

  "It is I--Nora. Mamma and I are awfully scared."

  "What's the matter?"

  "Somebody is in the store downstairs."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Mamma heard the window raised and woke me. She asked me to call youboys."

  "Wait a moment and we'll be with you."

  It showed how lightly Alvin and Mike were sleeping when they wereinstantly roused by the slight noise made in opening the door. Each saton the side of his couch and listened. In the deep silence they heard thesnatch of conversation and hurriedly began putting on their clothes. Theywrought silently and without lighting the lamp.

  "I expected it," remarked Chester, imitating them.

  Mrs. Friestone joined her daughter in the dark hall, she being too wiseto use a light. A moment later the whole party stood together in thegloom, where neither could see the face of the others.

  "Hark!" whispered the mother.

  The five stood for a minute without stirring or speaking and hardlybreathing. Not the slightest sound reached their ears. Then Chester askedin a guarded undertone:

  "Are you sure you were not mistaken, Mrs. Friestone?"

  "I could not have been; the sound of the raising of the window was toodistinct for me to be deceived--hark!" she warned again.

  This time all heard something. It was a faint, rasping noise such asmight have been caused by the cautious pushing of a box or large smoothobject over the floor. If this were so, the article could not have beenmoved more than a few inches, for the sound ceased immediately.

  "You are right," said Alvin; "you have visitors. About what time do yousuppose it is?"

  "The clock struck twelve quite awhile ago. There! it is now one," sheadded as a silvery tinkle came from the parlor.

  "What shall we do?" asked Nora, echoing the question that was in the mindof every one.

  And then a strange council was held in a place so dark that all who tookpart were mutually invisible.

  It would seem that the common sense course was to make a noise that wouldbe heard by the burglars and would scare them off. That is to say thattheoretically this would occur, but it might not. Knowing how much lootwas within their reach, if not already in hand, one or two of them werelikely to hurry upstairs and compel those that were there to hold theirpeace, hesitating at no violence to enforce their orders.

  While the boys were eager to take the risk, the mother would not agreeand the plan had to be abandoned.

  The next proposal was for each to thrust his or her head out of a windowand call for help. The cry would rouse the village and it would not takelong for many citizens to rush thither. Beartown had no police force, theonly officer of the peace being a constable who was lame and cross-eyedand lived at the farthest end of the village. No dependence could beplaced on him, but there were plenty of others who would gladly hasten tothe help of mother and daughter.

  This was the only thing to do, and it would have been done but for thehysterical opposition of Nora Friestone. She declared that the dreadfulrobbers--she was sure of it--would hurry upstairs the instant the firstscream was made and kill every one before any help could arrive! It mightnot take more than five or ten minutes for friends to run to the spot,but that would be enough for the burglars to complete their awful work.

  Possibly the girl might have been argued out of her absurd fear had shenot won her mother to her side. She took the same view.

  "What then is to be done?" asked Chester a trifle impatiently.

  "Nothing; they can't get the safe open, if they work till daylight."

  "They can do it in a few minutes if they use dynamite, and at the sametime blow out the whole end of your house."

  To this terrifying declaration the lady could make no reply except tosay:

  "We may as well go back to our rooms."

  It was on the point of Chester's tongue to ask in view of this conclusionwhy Nora had knocked on their door, but he thought best to refrain.

  "Whisht!" whispered Mike; "let's go to the parlor, where we have themoonlight to help us."

  Walking on tiptoe and as silent as so many cats, the party moved throughthe hall to the front room. The straining ears heard nothing more frombelow stairs, though there could be no doubt that their visitors werestill there.

  As Mike had intimated, the round, clear moon was in the sky, and lookingfrom the windows it seemed almost as bright as day. The party stood justfar enough back to be invisible to anyone in the street below. A row ofelms lined each side of the highway, being mutually separated by a dozenyards or so. They were small, having been set out only a few yearsbefore, but were in full foliage and the most remote ones cast a shadowinto the highway. On the same side of what was the main street, eachframe house that served for a dwelling had a yard, shrubbery and flowersin front. Farther to the left was the small grocery store, while to theright on the same side as the post office was the pert little villagechurch to which reference has already been made.

  At this hour all Beartown seemed to be sunk in slumber, as was quiteproper should be the case. From not a single window twinkled a light norwas man, woman or boy seen on the street. A solitary dog, with nose downand travelling diagonally as canines sometimes do, trotted to the frontgate of the house opposite the post office, jumped over and passed fromview to the rear.

  "I wonder what that man is waiting there for."

  It was Nora who whispered this question, which instantly put the otherson the _qui vive_.

  "I don't see any man; where is he?" asked Chester.

  "Under that tree opposite; he's in plain sight."

  Such was the fact now that she had directed attention to him. The elm wasdirectly across the street, and had a trunk not more than six or eightinches in diameter. A man was standing motionless under the dense foliageseveral feet above his head, doing nothing except simply to stand there.

  "He is the lookout," said Chester.

  "What's a lookout?" asked the nervous Nora.

  "He is there to watch for danger that may threaten the others who areinside and working at your mother's safe. If he sees anything wrong hewill give a signal, probably by means of a whistle, and the fellows belowwill run."

  "Why couldn't you give the signal?"

  "I could if I knew what it is, but I don't."

  "Look! he is coming over here!" exclaimed the affrighted Nora, as the manstepped from the shadow, walked half way across the street, and thenhalted as if in doubt whether to advance farther.

  "No fear of his visiting us," Alvin assured her; "but it is best to keepout of sight."

  All shrank still farther back, when there was no possibility of beingseen in the first place. The man did not look up, but kept his slouch hatpulled so far down that nothing of his face was visible. He held hisposition for perhaps five minutes, when he turned about and went back tohis post. There could be no doubt that he was the lookout of the gang, asChester had said when he was first noticed. Not once did he look upbefore reaching his place, so that none of our friends caught a glimpseof his features.

  What a unique situation! One or more burglars were at work on the safebelow stairs, and there were five persons on the floor above who knew it,but did not raise voice or a hand to interfere with them. It has beenexplained why, though it should be added that in the way of firearmsthere was only the single worthless Springfield rifle in the house. Itwas mother and daughter who held the three lads supine. Had they beenleft free they would have acted immediately on first learning of thepresence of the criminals.

  Chester had spoken the word "dynamite," and it was that terrificexplosive which he and his companions dreaded unspeakably. If the chargewere fired, it would not only blow the massive safe apart, but was likelyto wreck the building itself and probably inflict d
eath to more than onein the dwelling.

  Mike Murphy chafed more than his comrades. Reflecting on the exasperatingstate of affairs, he determined to do something despite the opposition ofthe mother and daughter. A few minutes' thought suggested a plan. Hewould have revealed it to Alvin and Chester, but feared they wouldprevent action or that his whispering in the darkness of the room wouldawaken the suspicion of the other two.

  Only when near the front windows could the members of the party dimly seeone another. They had withdrawn so far at sight of the approach of theman on guard that the light ill served them. Mike stealthily retreated tothe open door leading into the hall. Neither of his comrades heard him,and he groped along the passage, with hands outstretched on each side toguide him. The feet were lifted and set down without noise, and by and byhe came to the opening leading to the bedroom. Across this he made hisway with the same noiseless stealth, until the groping hand touched thebattered rifle, which he lifted from its resting place. Back into thehall again, and then through the dining room, inch by inch, to where heremembered seeing the head of the stairs, though he knew nothing beyondthat. He would have struck a match but for fear of attracting the noticeof those below.

  "I've only to feel each step," he reflected, "and I'll soon arrive, andthen won't fur of the spalpeens fly?"

  His unfamiliarity with the stairs made him think they were not so nearlyperpendicular as was the fact. While the thought was in his mind, he madea misstep and, unable to check himself, went bumping all the way to thebottom.