The graphophone had stopped; but Billy’s quick ears heard another sound. Somebody was trying to open the great door!
Billy remembered the little closet. He could see the office from that. He hurried on, and had barely slipped into it when the door opened.
In came the man with the fierce black eyes and the coal black hair, and he was carrying something in both hands.
Billy fairly held his breath. The door was a little too far open, but he didn’t dare to touch it.
The door was too far open. It was open so far that, hitting it as he passed, the man gave it an angry kick.
The door went to so hard that Billy heard the click of the spring lock as it fastened the door, and made him a prisoner in the closet.
Keep still he must till the man was out of the way. That was the only thing to do. Billy took out his jack-knife. It felt friendly, so he opened it.
Sooner than he expected he heard the man come out, heard him go heavily down the corridor, and heard him close the great door.
Cracks between the boards let in light enough for Billy to find the lock. He began to pry away at it with his knife. He thought he had started it a little, when snap went the blade.
Then he tried the other, working a little more carefully; but, in a moment, snap went that blade, broken close to the handle.