“Curse the luck——” began Lew; but on the instant the bark died away in a blood-curdling, stricken howl; and afterwards there was silence again. He listened in a strained attitude, still clutching Blackie, who could hear his heart beat so loudly that it seemed as if the inhabitants of the house must hear those throbbing thumps between his ribs and waken in alarm. Finally Reno came back to them, moving like a shadow in the starlight.
“It’s all clear!” Blackie heard him whisper hoarsely. “The watch-dog heard me and almost give the show away, but I cut his throat right quick. I tried all the doors and windows, and everything is tight as a drum—but there’s a little window in the kitchen that the kid might be able to get through.”
“Send him along,” said Lew. “Does he know what to do?”
“He’d better know!” whispered Reno sharply. “Listen, kid—ya got to help us. I’m goin’ to boost ya through a window into the kitchen, and you pass out all the grub you can find. While I was around lookin’ at the windows, I found a gunny-sack they use for a doormat, and we can stuff it full of grub and take it with us.”
“But—but that’s stealing!” exclaimed Blackie.
Reno grasped his throat swiftly, and choked the words in the boy’s throat. “Shut yer trap—do ya want the whole house down on us? And what if it is stealin’? Ya ain’t above that, are ya, ya little ladylike brat?”
“But what if they catch me in there?” moaned Blackie through his teeth.
“Ya better not let them catch ya, that’s all. But let me tell ya, it’d be a sight better to have the old farmer catch ya and put a shotgun full of buckshot into ya than to come back to me without a pile of grub!” There was an edged threat in his voice, and Blackie did not dare say another word. If only he had stayed at camp and obeyed the rules, he would not now have to choose between robbing a house and being beaten within an inch of his life by a murderous tramp!
He allowed Reno to push him around to a small, high window at the rear of the house. “There it is, kid,” whispered the man in his ear, “and if ya see anything else worth takin’, pass it out to me!” He lifted the boy to the ledge, and Blackie fumbled with the catch. The window opened outwards with a slight creaking noise, leaving an aperture about half a yard square. Making no further protest, which he knew would be useless, Blackie squirmed through after some trouble, and lowered himself slowly into the silent kitchen of the sleeping house. He had a new plan in his head now, and permitting himself to be pushed inside the farmhouse was a necessary part of it. It was his duty to rouse the owner of the farm and warn him of the danger lurking without. If there was a telephone in the place, perhaps help could be speedily summoned in time to capture the murderers outside; if not, at least the house could be barricaded and the tramps driven off. The farmer would give Blackie shelter for the night, he hoped, and anyway he would be free of the domination and driving of the two vagrants; but unless the farmer was awakened with care and quickly comprehended what Blackie would tell him, he might misunderstand and take the boy for a robber before he could explain. Nevertheless, Blackie felt that he must carry out his plan no matter at what danger to himself.
He found himself in a sort of pantry leading off from the spacious farm kitchen. A low red fire still glowed in the stove, and he could make out the walls lined with jars and cans and boxes and cooking utensils of all kinds. A low hiss from the window warned him that Reno was still on the lookout. He would have to work rapidly.