There was a second's astonished silence and then a chorus of voices demanded:
"Let us in! Pinkey! What is the matter?"
The answer was an inarticulate, gurgling sound that was blood-curdling.
"He's cut his wind-pipe and all he can do is gaggle!" cried Mr. Hicks, excitedly, and made a frenzied attack on the door that strained the lock to the utmost.
If the noise he made was any criterion it was judged that Pinkey's head must be nearly severed from his body—which made the resistance he displayed all the more remarkable. He was a madman, of course—that was taken for granted—and the ladies were warned to places of safety lest he come out slashing right and left with a razor.
They ran and locked themselves in the kitchen, where they could look through the window—all except Miss Eyester, who declared dramatically that she had no further interest in life anyhow and wished to die by his hand, knowing herself responsible for what had happened.
Wallie, breathless from running, arrived with the axe, which he handed to Mr. Hicks, who called warningly as he swung it:
"Stand back, Pinkey!—I'm comin'!"
The door crashed and splintered, and when it opened, Mr. Hicks fell in with it.
He fell out again almost as quickly, for there was Pinkey with the glaring eyes of a wild man, his jaws open, and from his mouth there issued a strange white substance.