“Oh, golly! It’s the demon or somethin’ else!” wailed one.
Then two wild and fearful eyes peered out through the concealed door, and a voice quavered: “N-o-o, it ain’t the demon; but I guess we’d better clear!”
Seven gaunt youths stole through the concealed door; glanced fearfully at the new-comers; and then broke and fled tumultuously out of the front entrance.
The two men smiled; the boy laughed.
“A boy is the same creature that he was when I was young,” Mr. Lawrence observed.
“They’re the very fellow’s that cheered us the other night,” said Will. “I guess they wanted to be ‘bouncers’ too.”
“Now, why in this world did the little rogues make a fire?” Mr. Mortimer queried.
“That question is easily answered,” said Mr. Lawrence. “When a boy comes upon a heap of wood, the temptation to kindle a fire, if he has any means of doing so, is too great for him to resist.”
“And you see nothing here that is familiar to you?” asked Mr. Mortimer.
“No; everything is strange to me; and I must apply to Will to lead the way.”