“What has happened?” gasped Handley, scarcely able to hear his own voice in the deafening clamor. Advancing into the darkness, a violent report beneath his feet caused him to leap into the air with alarm, whilst in the gloom White was trying to make himself heard above the pandemonium.
“Here, Cargill, get a light for goodness’ sake!” howled Handley, as their host appeared. “I don’t know what on earth has happened; it seemed like a pistol going off.”
“You fellows are making a fine noise between you,” shouted Cargill. “Get inside, Jim, and turn on the light; it’s just to the left.” Jim had no sooner stepped across the threshold and begun searching for the switch, than BANG! BANG!—the very floor seemed thundering beneath him, whilst a rattle as of a thousand pots falling to the ground made the confusion worse. Leaping back hastily, he collided with Handley, and the couple sat down with a ponderous thud.
“That’s right; make yourselves comfortable!” laughed Bobbie Cargill. As he spoke the light was turned on, the jangling bells ceased, and the three guests were discovered gazing ruefully at one another, whilst their host, calm and collected, smiled down on them from the doorway.
It was some time before Bobbie could pacify his guests. Indeed, the situation might have become painfully awkward had they not happened to glance at the table, which certainly looked inviting. Knives and forks glistened cheerfully on a spotless white cloth, whilst dainty mats and sparkling cruets promised a really substantial “feed.” A large center-piece full of flowers added to the appearance of the table, and showed that Bobbie Cargill knew how to do things “in style.”
Following their host’s example, the three chums took their seats at the table and glanced round the room. It was a cozy “Den,” and looked cheerful, with a sparkling fire on the hearth. A thick curtain was drawn across the window at Cargill’s back, lending an air of comfort to the place.
Before each guest was a napkin, neatly mitered, with a piece of bread reposing between the horns, and scarcely noticing what he was doing, White drew this piece of bread from its resting-place.
A sharp exclamation drew attention to him. There he sat, a mass of bread-crumbs before him, and a look of surprise on his face!
“Have you had an accident?” grinned Cargill. “Never mind the crumbs, they can soon be scooped up; wait a minute until I fetch the tray.”
He had scarcely risen when a roar of laughter burst from Jim and Handley. By some strange means the entire mass of crumbs had been swept off the cloth and scattered all over the place.