Ruth stood near the telephone to send at once the alarm in to the police, once the supposed visitors should be captured. It had been ascertained by a cautious test that the telephone was in working order.
At last all was in readiness. Luke and Hal, with the former carrying the revolver ready for quick aim, and Hal with a flashlight, started down the inner stairway to the cellar. They had drawn on, over their shoes, at the suggestion of Ruth, old stockings to make their footfalls softer.
Neale and Uncle Rufus, each armed with a stout stick of wood, went out the back kitchen door and took their places at the back cellar entrance, followed by Agnes. It was here that Neale made a discovery that struck him as being curious.
“Why,” he whispered, “they didn’t leave this door open after they went in this way.”
“Eh? Why should dey leave it open?” asked Uncle Rufus.
“So they could get out again in a hurry if they had to—and they may have to. I never heard of such stupid fellows. They close their way of escape. Hum! That makes me think!”
“What’s dat?” asked Uncle Rufus, whose hearing was not of the best.
“I was just thinking,” went on Neale, “that perhaps they didn’t get into the cellar this way after all. If they didn’t—and if there is some other way out and in than the inside stairs—it may explain a lot of things. But never mind that now. We won’t open this door, Uncle Rufus. In fact we’ll just sit down on it.”
“Sit down on it?”
“Yes, that will make it all the harder for the fellows to lift it up and get out. Come, let’s take it easy.”