“In here,” roared a voice that sent a thrill of joy through me.
“Now, then, what d’yer want?” cried the big fellow, thrusting me behind him as Ike kicked open the door and strode into the room.
“What do I want?” he roared. “I want him and our cart-rope. Now, then, where is it?”
There was a fierce muttering among the men, and they drew together while the boy and the woman cowered into one corner of the attic.
“Oh! you’re not going to scare me,” cried Ike fiercely. “There’s the police just at hand if I wants help. Now then, where’s that rope?”
“What rope?” growled the ruffian. “I don’t know about no ropes.”
“They threw it out of the window, Ike,” I cried.
“That’s a lie,” snarled the man. “There ain’t never been no ropes here.”
“There has been one,” I cried, feeling bold now; “but they threw it out of the window.”
“Well, of all—” began one of the men, who had crossed the room with his companion to the big ruffian’s side.