“You get that trench cleared right up close to the brick wall, Mike,” directed Granniss, who was decked out in old clothes and looked like a laborer himself. “Get a pile of stuff each side of the trench and then we’ll lay those two boards across to cover us while we work. Maybe a couple more. We gotta work fast, and this is just the kind of a night we wanted. Listen to that ice cracking. Sounds like a gun. A little pounding won’t be heard. This is great! The river’ll be breaking up pretty soon. Come, let’s get to work. I’ll get the car ready to receive the stuff when we get it out. I brought some boxes along so we won’t get the papers wet. Got some important maps and plans in there.”
So Mike went down on his rubber-shod knees with pick and shovel, and soon he had the upper end of the trench cleared, placing the rubble in a pile on either side and laying the boards across.
The wind rose and howled around the place and shook the bare branches of the trees until now and again one fell with a crash; but there were so many crashes that it would not be noticed. And in a short time the bare brick wall lay close ahead, with the wires sticking out. Mike found himself quite excited to think he was at last so near to the goal and actually working now out of sight, where he could guardedly use his flashlight.
Of course Mike could not know that two figures watched across the street, who were well aware of the strange activities going on and that the guarded little flashlight, whose sharp brightness danced and gleamed through the rain like diamonds, was entirely within their sight. Mike did not know that when he had accomplished the feat of chiseling a brick or two loose, so that he could put his hand inside and feel around for things he had been told to locate, one of the two across the street in hiding had quietly slipped from his shelter to his hidden bicycle and noiselessly pedaled away to a telephone booth not too far off, where he had arranged to call the police station and give instructions. Then he went back to Rowley, who was carefully watching developments, listening to every movement.
And about that time Frannie, who had not been able to get to sleep with her usual promptness, thought she heard a sound like a blow on the back wall of the house. She listened for a moment to see if it could have been a tree that fell with the wind, which rose now and then with sudden vigor and then died down again. There! There was that sound of a blow again, like a sledgehammer on the back wall, down low, as if it were striking the foundation. The wall seemed to tremble. Could that be a slight earthquake? Did earthquakes ever come to this part of the country? Or was it purely imagination?
Then suddenly she remembered the new telephone, which had been put in that morning. It was located down in the living room so that it should not annoy the sick mother, and it seemed a long way downstairs in the middle of the night. But again she heard that dull thud that seemed to shake the little house. Strange Nurse Branner hadn’t heard it, but she was sleeping in Mother’s room tonight because she was afraid the wind and noise outside would make the invalid restless. Frannie’s room was partly over the back of the house, and that was where the sound seemed to come from. There it was again! She must do something about it. What was a telephone for if not to use in an emergency?
But she mustn’t wake the nurse, for that would likely wake up Mother, and she mustn’t turn on a light, for if there was really somebody outside trying to get in they might have a gun and see her through the window and shoot her. Oh, but this was fantastic. It probably was nothing at all but the wind rattling something, a loose shingle perhaps. But even if it wasn’t any safer to go down in the dark than the light, she felt much more comfortable going in the dark.
So, softly she got up, careful not to wake Bonnie, threw her bathrobe around her, stepped into her soft slippers, and crept slowly, cautiously to the head of the stairs. Maybe she was a fool! Maybe she ought to go back and try to go to sleep again, but at least she could go downstairs and see if the same sound was clearer down there. Perhaps she could find out what it was and calm her mind and then she could go back upstairs and go to sleep like a sensible girl. She needed her sleep if she were going to be alert and worth her wages tomorrow. She was a working girl. She had no right to stay awake humoring herself with fancies and fears. She was brave!
So she went on step by step, avoiding carefully the stair that squeaked. She had had plenty of practice at that while her mother was so very sick at first.
And in due time she arrived at the foot of the stairs, went across to the little alcove between the bottom step and the coat closet where the telephone had so newly come to reside, and then tried to think what to do next.
Of course. She must call the police. But she didn’t know the number, and she mustn’t turn on a light to look it up. But surely the operator would know! So with a shaking hand she took down the receiver, half hesitated, and then in a trembling voice spoke, very softly.
“Will you please give me the local police, quick!”
“What is your number, please?”
Her heart was beating so wildly now she could scarcely answer, and then almost at once she heard a man’s voice, cool, deep, dependable, like one who was used to constant emergencies, and it gave her reassurance.
“Is this the police station?”
“Yes, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t quite know, but it sounds as if somebody was trying to break into the back of our house. It’s number ten Rosemary Lane, the little old brick house that has been vacant so long, they tell me. Would you please tell some officer who is near here to go behind our house and look? It sounds as if somebody was pounding on the bricks and it sometimes shakes the whole house. There it is again. Oh please, quick, could you send someone?”
“Number ten Rosemary Lane. Why sure, we’ll take care of it. Don’t you worry. Is the house lit up?”
“No, I was afraid to turn on the light.”
“Well, that’s right. Keep it dark till we get there. Then if everything is all right we’ll knock on the door and tell you.”
“Thank you. But please don’t knock loud. My mother is sick and I don’t want to frighten her.”
“Okay, lady. Just keep the house dark till we come. We’ll take care of you.”
So Frannie dropped down in the big chair by the front window and tried to stop trembling. Somehow calling the police had made her more sure than ever that there was something dreadful the matter, as if she had created the interloper herself out of her imagination.
It seemed to be very still there in the dark living room, and then she began to think it had all been a mistake. There wasn’t anybody pounding on the back wall. There wasn’t a sound anywhere except the snapping of branches, their thuds as they fell to the ground. And how like a fool she was going to feel when the police came and found nothing was the matter. Her face grew red in the darkness at the thought. Everybody would hear of it. Maybe it would get in the papers and people would laugh. Only there was nobody around her to laugh whom she would care about, except Valiant Willoughby, and he was away. Maybe he would never hear of it. But if he did he would think she was a little blunderer and a fraidy cat, always getting into trouble and needing to be taken care of, and she simply couldn’t have that girl, that horrid girl, maybe come and laugh at her in her own house and tell her that was what it meant to live on the wrong side of the river, with no servants around to guard the place.
Then suddenly into the deep quiet there came an extraordinary blow, as if given by a heavy sledgehammer, pounding over heavy folds of canvas or some heavy cloth, and the whole kitchen floor shook, so that the dishpan that Bonnie had left in the sink rattled.
Frannie jumped and caught her breath. “Oh!” she said, and put her hand over her heart. She struggled to her feet and stood staring around her, wondering what to do next, and yet mindful of the officer’s warning that she was not to turn on the light.
The rain was still pelting down and rattling on the improvised roof over the trench where the two men worked. And now the big man was by the side of the stout man, sliding into the trench beside him as
the rattle of bricks in a shower could be heard mingling with the rending sound of breaking ice. Then all was suddenly still. Frannie, creeping trembling to the kitchen window to look out, saw two dark figures step across the street swiftly and come up close to the house, and two more follow behind, and then two more. Had the police come so soon? It didn’t seem possible since she called. She knew the station house was at some distance from their home. But now she would hear voices.
One voice Nurse Branner, who had been awakened by the last rumble of the wall, recognized as belonging to Officer Rowley. He was speaking with clear authority that could be heard in the little house even above the roar of the storm.
“That will be about all,” he said, putting a mighty grip on the flabby shoulder of the big man. “Just what do you men think you are doing breaking into another man’s house at night while the people sleep?”
“Oh,” said the big man, clearing his throat importantly. “This isn’t another man’s house. I’ve just bought it, didn’t you know that? And I’m going to make some changes to the place. I wanted to see the architect tomorrow and have the plan drawn up, so I thought I better come over and do some measuring up tonight.”
“Yes?” said Rowley. “Well, you can just walk out of here and down to the police station with me and do your measuring up there. I imagine somebody else will need to measure you before you go any farther. Come on, step out of there. Brewer, snap those handcuffs on him and look out for him.”
“Now, man, who are you?”
“Oh, I don’t know anything about this business,” said Mike airily. “I’m just a laborer he hired to do some digging for him. Getting extra wages because of the storm, you know. Comes in handy when you have a big family, see?”
“Yes,” said Rowley, “I see. Well, come on over to the police station and see if you can make them see. Come on. Hustle out of here. We haven’t any more time to waste.”
And then into the noise and storm of the night came the clear siren of the police car in front of the house, and Frannie went to the front door and opened it, to find two policemen standing there and a red car with bright lights parked at the gate.
“Well, ma’am,” said one of the policemen, “I guess it’s all over. They’ve arrested your two men, and I think there’s men here enough to take care of the house tonight.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Frannie, with a sound of tears in her voice. “I was afraid you were going to scold me for being scared at nothing. I’ve been hearing sounds several times, other nights, but I thought I was silly.”
“No ma’am, you weren’t silly. You did the right thing callin’ us. But you see our men were onto the fellows. They’d been watchin’ several nights, only they wanted them to give themselves away completely before they pinched ’em.”
“Oh!” said Frannie. “But what would they want to get into our house for? We’re not rich people. We haven’t anything much to steal. The few solid silver things we had Mother put in the bank for safekeeping. She was sort of afraid to live in such a secluded place so near to a big city, and yet not in it.”
“Well, that’s what the men wanted. The seclusion. They’re what is called fifth columnists, I guess. Anyhow, they’ve been operating a broadcastin’ station illegally, givin’ away our American secrets to the enemy, and this was a nice quiet place where they could send messages. At least, that’s what we figured was the matter. I haven’t been in charge of this case, but there’s others like it nowadays, and I guess they musta had some of their stuff hid in the cellar. You folks come unexpected and moved right in and they had to get it out before it was discovered. But you don’t need to worry anymore. Our men will take charge of the premises, and nobody can bother you. Them fellers are gone to the police station, and there they’ll stay tonight, and there ain’t any chance of anybody else getting’ into your house. There’s too many police around.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Frannie, relieved.
“You’re welcome, miss. Call us any time you need us!”
And then Nurse Branner stepped up.
“Officer, is Mr. Rowley anywhere around here tonight?” Her voice was crisp and self-possessed, and Frannie looked up regretfully.
“Oh, did I wake you up?” she asked. “I’m so sorry. I tried to be quiet.”
“No, you didn’t wake me up,” said the nurse, smiling. “It was the pounding on the wall that woke me. Did you say Mr. Rowley is around here, officer?”
“I think he is,” said the policeman politely. “Would you like to see him?”
“Yes, I would very much,” said the nurse. And in a moment more Officer Rowley appeared dressed in a rubber uniform, dripping from every point and fold of his coat and boots.
“What was the matter, Mr. Rowley? Did you find anything down there?”
The big policeman grinned.
“We sure did, Nurse Branner. Just a little matter of a radio transmitter used for spy purposes. You see, they’ve been using this as a hideout till you folks moved in, and they had to leave in too much of a hurry. So they just sealed everything up and planned to come back and get it later. I haven’t looked everything over, but I guess there’s some pretty important papers for the government to see. Anyhow we’re taking possession of them and will keep them safe till the government expert gets here. Sorry we couldn’t have pulled this off sooner and saved you any further worry, but we had to keep them under surveillance till we could find out just what they were doing, so we could catch them red-handed. But we watched them carefully, and you weren’t in any danger; we made sure of that. So now you can get your family back to sleep and you won’t be bothered any more tonight. I’m leaving a force here to guard the house, and I’m having the break sealed up. If you’d just let us go down into the cellar a minute or two, then we’ll be in a position to take care of everything.”
Quietly the men went down the narrow cellar stairs, investigated everything, including the movable brick and the slit of a keyhole, and then as quietly returned and went out into the rain, bidding Frannie and the nurse a good night. And so as the stormy morning grew toward dawn, sleep gradually came to the excited little household in the brick house.
While down the beaten silver way the rain continued to fall, unlocking the icy fetters, and making it into a river again.
Chapter 18
They went to sleep after a little while, just as the dawn was creeping into the sky, but they did not sleep long. Their nerves were too tense, excitement stirred in their blood, and they were up early, tiptoeing around, careful not to wake the mother who mercifully had slept through the night. Lulled by the storm, which she believed to be harmless, she had not heard the excitement.
They slipped out into the bright morning that had followed the rain and wind and went cautiously around to the back of the house where a couple of grim policemen still patrolled the yard. They looked curiously at the trench, now lying exposed, cluttered with bricks and mortar and other debris. They stood back and looked into the gaping hole, now large enough for a man to enter, but they saw only a large case-like frame against the side of the wall and an old wooden chair. Everything else had been taken out by the officers. They did not know yet what significance there had been to this night raid. They wondered about the men who had been found battering into the wall, trying to obtain entrance. They looked and went away in awe.
“Well, I’m glad your mother isn’t able to walk around yet,” said the nurse. “She would have had to know all about this thing, and I’m afraid she never would have felt comfortable in her home again. She would want to move right away.”
“Yes, I’m glad she can’t know about it yet,” said Frannie. “But my mother is very sensible. She would not be frightened if she had to know. She might take some extra precautions against any further possibilities, but she would never run away from here. And after all, Nurse Branner, those men, even if they were still at large, wouldn’t be likely to do the same thing in the same place again, now that they have been found out.”
r /> “Well, perhaps not,” said the nurse. “Still I think the memory of what happened in the night might be hard to forget.”
“I don’t feel that way,” said Frannie thoughtfully. “I think there is great comfort in the knowledge that the police could get here so quickly in any time of need. And then—Nurse Branner, don’t you think God may have had something to do with taking care of us?”
“I surely do,” said the nurse in a fervent tone. “And I guess He always takes care of His own that way, whether there are any police around or not. Only sometimes, He does use the police.”
“Of course,” said Frannie.
Then they suddenly looked at the clock and found they had to hurry to get Frannie off on time.
So, with two policemen wandering around the backyard and a big hole in their back cellar wall, Frannie had to get on the bus and go quietly to her work in the city. As she settled herself in the bus she cast an anxious glance back and a quick, trustful prayer upward for protection of her dear ones. Another hard day to go through, and she needed to keep empowering herself that she might be calm and keep her mind on her work.
Two or three times she wondered what Willoughby would think if he knew what had been going on, but she quickly chided herself for that thought. With his innate courtesy, of course, he would have wanted to do something about it right away for her reassurance and her comfort. But she mustn’t let that longing for his presence well up in her heart. It was a good thing he was not at home and could not possibly find out about last night, for it would just have been another excuse for his protection, and she knew very well she had no right to expect protection from him, nor to think of him as in any way her property. She was a working girl and as such was beginning to experience some of the annoyances and anxieties that other working girls in the days of war probably had to experience. She must just take things day by day as they came and try to remember some of the wonderful things that had been said in that Bible class Monday night.