For more than a minute Bill Berry, for Ned could see plainly now that the man was the town bad character, stood and gazed into the mill office. Then, apparently satisfied with what he had seen, Bill tip-toed away and passed down the street and out of sight.
“Now it’s my turn,” whispered Ned, and he moved forward.
He looked up. The light was still glowing though faintly. Ned set his foot on the first wooden step. As if it had been a signal agreed upon the light went out suddenly, and the office was in darkness.
“Queer!” exclaimed Ned. “I wonder if whoever is in there could have heard me?”
A moment’s reflection, however, showed him this could not have been the case.
“Maybe they are watching and saw me,” he argued. This made him feel a little strange. To think that in the darkness, there might be evil eyes watching his every movement was not a pleasant thought. He knew that he could be seen from within the mill, though he himself could observe nothing inside.
“Might as well look in, though, now I’m here,” he said to himself.
So he boldly, but softly, went up the five steps, and, placing his hands on either side of his face, to shut out the little light of the moon that, now and then, straggled through the clouds, Ned peered anxiously into the office. As he had feared he could distinguish nothing. It was as black as the proverbial pocket.
Ned walked down the steps. As he did so he thought he heard, from within the mill, a sound, as if a door was slammed. He listened intently.
“I guess I must have fancied it,” he said. “I must be getting nervous. That won’t do. All the same I would like to have seen what Bill Berry did when he looked in while the light was there.”