[CHAPTER XXIII.—A KNOCK ON THE DOOR.]
The old man looked startled, and the girl showed signs of alarm.
“Quick, Drew!” she whispered. “Is the door fastened?”
“Yes!” quavered the old man.
“My revolver—where is it?”
“On the shelf—where you placed it.”
With a spring that reminded the boys of the leap of a young pantheress, she reached the shelf and snatched a gleaming pistol from it. Then she faced the door again, the weapon half raised.
The boys were on their feet.
“Land ob wartermillions!” chattered Toots, his eyes rolling. “Looks lek dar am gwan teh be a rucshun fo’ suah!”
Then he looked around for some place of concealment.