Jack looked at his watch; it was not quite seven-thirty. “Yes,” he answered. “But we will go down there anyhow and see.”
They walked past the house as though they were ordinary pedestrians. Coming to the railroad tracks, they turned around and walked back through the street on which the back of the house faced. It was eight o’clock now but it was still daylight. So they decided to walk around the block once more and as far as the railroad tracks. As soon as it became dusk, they returned to the house and took up different positions. Jack hid himself directly behind the fence overlooking the front of the house; Ken, on the other hand, picked out a hiding place at the rear of the house. The two were thus able to keep a watch all around the house and at the same time be within reach of each other in case of necessity.
The boys watched the sky become gray and the stars come out; the moon crept out of the horizon and night descended. Perfectly still, noiseless, inconspicuous, the two kept guard. Every once in a while, people passed up and down the street, and immediately Jack was on the alert, anxious, impatient. But nothing happened and time dragged along. Suddenly he heard the sound of a soft whistle and he turned his head to locate Ken. Again the same soft whistle. Jack looked all around him, then, very cautiously, he crept over to his friend. Ken had his ear to the ground. Jack whispered, “What’s up?”
Ken motioned for his friend to put his ear to the ground and Jack did so. He flattened himself out and glued his ear to the ground. A slight trembling of the earth came to his ears, accompanied by a steady, muffled sound. For about five minutes both boys put their ears to the ground and listened. Ken, although he guessed what it was, whispered, “What do you think it is?”
“The printing press.”
Ken nodded. “I thought so too.”
Jack whispered, “When did you first hear that sound?” he asked.
“It seemed to begin only a short while ago.”
The boys were silent, thinking hard. If the press had been operating only a short while, then it was most logical to conclude that whoever was in the cellar had come there recently, within the last thirty, forty, fifty minutes. Yet the boys had been on guard for a full hour and as far as they knew, no one had entered the house by the front door. Jack, therefore, became more firmly convinced that there was another door somewhere; that the cellar could be reached and left perhaps some distance away from the house. Jack whispered, “I’m going back.”
Ken nodded. His friend crept away and again he was alone. Each one in his own hiding place, they watched and waited, but nothing happened. Overhead was the blue sky with the moon and the stars. All around them was darkness. Their waiting and watching was in vain—at least so it seemed.