Prisoners in Devil's Bog

  CHAPTER XII

  THE STORM

  Rain lashed against the shutters and poured down the side of the housein torrents. Loose shingles slammed and clattered with every twist ofthe wind and the trees bowing down before its fury moaned piteously,their branches squeaking and crackling like ancient spectral voices inthe night.

  A zig-zag streak of lightning flashed upon the dirty wall and the clapof thunder that followed seemed to sweep away all rational thought. ToSkippy, the world had suddenly gone mad and he did not wonder at itsince Devlin, asleep no doubt, had locked within his black heartsecrets which challenged even the warring elements.

  Carlton Conne had said of Devlin that he was criminal, but notdangerously so. Perhaps that had been true once, but not now. Devlinhad contributed something more than just law evasion to the sordidatmosphere of the house. Human laws defied had given the place itsdark, furtive character for one sensed it in every nook and corner thatmade up the tottering structure.

  The storm screamed on and through the tiny, hot room a cooling breezenow found its way. Skippy shifted around to the foot of the bed and letthe welcome air blow over him. He wished he might call out and hear acheery answer from Big Joe Tully as in the old river days. Nickie wasstill undisturbed by the shrieking night and Timmy, though restless andtossing about, was asleep.

  Skippy thought of the two Greeks, Shorty and Biff, apparently obliviousof the meaning of it all. Their bland, oily faces reflected prettyaccurately the stupid squint which they had on their petty thievingpractices; it was the only thing they knew, the only means of livingwhich they could understand. Skippy wondered how they would feel aboutthe dark and seemingly sinister "job" which Devlin or Frost woulddemand that they carry out as the price for their sympathetic"protection."

  Not for a moment was Skippy deceived as to who was the brains of theDevlin-Frost combination. Frost was a chuckling, subservient thief, butit was in the depths of Dean Devlin's dubious soul that the plans werecarefully laid.

  He was making mental note of all these things in anticipation of theday when he should see Carlton Conne and give his report. It made not abit of difference that this day now seemed remote--it had to comesometime! He would spend all his waking hours preparing for it despitethe bars and locked doors that mocked him.

  He would escape somehow--some day!

  The sound of scurrying rats overhead gave him a brilliant idea. Theattic! Was that barred also? He determined to find out somehow, nowthat Frost had so generously secured for them the run of the house.Well, he would run, certainly, just as soon as the opportunitypresented itself.

  As he meditated he heard Timmy throw himself from the cot and shriek.Skippy was on his feet and helping him up in a second.

  "Dreaming--huh, Timmy?"

  Timmy was trembling violently. "It was like as if it was true," he saidin a choking voice. "I'm dreamin' it's a night like this an' I'm outwith Devlin in a funny-lookin' old car."

  "Aw, it's this storm what made you dream," Nickie interposed, arousedby the commotion and sitting up rubbing his eyes.

  Timmy's protest was almost a sob. "I'm tellin' you it was real-like!We're ridin' along in the dark an' it's lightnin' an' I'm gettin' wetan' I shiver. All of a sudden it don't look like Devlin sittin' besideme no more--it's like a ghost without no body--just big, starin' eyeslike Devlin's--then I'm wise he's a killer--see? But he's gonna kill_me_!" Timmy crawled up on his cot and sat down, still trembling."Somehow I don't remember what happened after that till I feel like I'mrunnin' an' that Devlin's chasin' me. Then when I feel like I'm halfdead I look up an' see it's this house. Up in the attic I see you an'Nickie at the little window. I'm hurt an' tell how Devlin tries to killme. All of a sudden long arms come reachin' out from behind a big treeout in front. All I see is Devlin's starin' eyes an' I'm sorta chokin'to death when I wake up on the floor."

  "Holy Smoke!" Nickie exclaimed. "What a guy! Can't you pick out nothin'better to dream about?"

  Skippy sat down beside Timmy and patted him sympathetically. Suddenlythe door opened and they saw Devlin's tall form outlined there.

  "What's going on here?" he asked impatiently.

  "Timmy," Skippy ventured; "he's hadda bad dream an' it threw him outabed!"

  "Hmph!" the man boomed in his funereal voice. "Dreams don't come true!Get back to bed and to sleep, you kids!" He shut the door and theyheard his bare feet patter across the hall.

  Nickie sneered contemptuously at the door. "It'd be too bad for you,Devlin, if that dream did come true!"

  "But it won't," Skippy said soothingly. "My aunt always says dreams arealways opposite."

  Timmy had got hold of himself somewhat, and valiantly tried to forgethis dream. "Yep," he agreed, "I guess that's right. Mebbe it was theheat an' my stomach. I never could eat right fore goin' to bed withoutdreamin' terrible things. But I never dreamed nothin' bad's that,that's all." He laughed nervously. "Aw, I'll forget it!"

  Skippy wondered if he really would. Somehow he had the feeling that hewouldn't forget it--not ever!