Then he saw that someone was coming in answer to his second summons. Under the door appeared a thin thread of light. This announced that the door between had been opened, and a lamp was being carried into the front room.
Fred wondered just at that moment whether it would be Sarah or her father who might open the door. He knew Mr. Masterson was recovering his strength; but still he must be more or less weak, after a spell of sickness. And in that event Sarah was apt to be the one to come.
Well, he would ask to see her father then, so as to get a few minutes conversation with the other. Sarah would be surprised to see him, of course, at this queer hour, and in his running costume.
Fred almost wished now he had changed his mind, and turned away before giving that knock. But it was too late. He could hear someone drawing back the bolt by which the door was fastened. The Mastersons had gone through one unpleasant experience, and they did not want another, if such a small thing as a new bolt on the door would ward it off.
Now the door had begun to open, and Fred allowed a smile to come upon his face in anticipation of the look of surprise he felt sure would welcome him.
As it happened, however, the surprise was pretty much the other way. The door suddenly flew open, at least the upper half of it did, and Arnold Masterson thrust the muzzle of a double-barrel shotgun through the opening, at the same time exclaiming:
"Now be off with you, or I'll give you a dose of buck shot that you won't like!"
He had just managed to say this when he stared at the figure standing there. Of course Fred had been startled when so suddenly confronted by the armed and angry farmer; but he immediately recovered.
"Hold on, Mr. Masterson, don't you know me? It's Fred Fenton!" he exclaimed.
The farmer seemed too surprised for words. But he did hasten to unfasten the remaining part of the Dutch door, and seize hold of the boy by the short sleeve of his running tunic.