They crept up the ladder. Dick put his hand on Anne’s arm and they stood still a minute, straining their eyes and ears into the woodland night. Above the whir and chirp of insects and the murmur of the little stream, they heard a trampling on the hillside; no voices.
“Suppose just Cæsar and Isham have gone on?� whispered Anne, terrified. “Suppose that awful old man is waiting to grab us?�
“Oh, no!� Dick tried to soothe her; then he warned her: “Don’t talk. Listen. And be on the lookout.�
They went cautiously down the path, starting whenever a twig cracked or a pebble rolled underfoot. Now and then they stopped to listen and peer ahead. Thus they went on—across the creek, along the path, on the Old Plank Road, up the hill by Isham’s cabin.
The door was open, and by the brilliant blaze of the lightwood knots on the hearth Anne and Dick saw Lily Belle moving restlessly about. She came to the door and peered out; but she did not see the two figures that slipped past in the darkness and hurried along the Old Plank Road to the highway.
At the path that turned off to the mill and Larkland, Anne caught Dick by the arm. “Wait, Dick!� she said.
“We haven’t time to stop,� he said impatiently. “Come on!�
“But, Dick,� she said, “I’ve been thinking—— Suppose they’re watching. If we go the straight road home, they’ll be sure to catch us.�
“It’s a chance we’ve got to take, to get home to tell them,� he said. “I must. Do you want to——�
“If we turn off here and go to Larkland,� said Anne, “we can tell Cousin Mayo. He’ll know what to do. It isn’t much farther this way, and it’s a million times safer.�