Uncle Rufus laughed and Agnes giggled. This drew Neale’s attention to the girl.
“Aggie!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Go back into the house!”
“I’ll not, so there! I want to see all that’s to be seen. And then you don’t think for a minute, do you, that I’m going to let you be all pounded up or something, Neale O’Neil, and not be near to help you?”
“Oh, come, Agnes. You’re my faithful chum, I know. But please go in now. Uncle Rufus and I are safer than you would be, for if the fellows saw us, they would run away from us, probably right in your direction. Then, for you, it would be good-night.”
After some further talk, in which Uncle Rufus joined, Agnes consented to return to the house. Neale and Uncle Rufus took their seats on the slanting cellar door as soon as Agnes disappeared.
Meanwhile Luke and Hal were going softly down the inner stairs. Hal held the flashlight in readiness for instant use, but he and his companion had no sooner started to descend the stairs than they became aware of a dim light in the cellar and they knew, since the regular electric lights were not switched on, that it came from the intruders.
“We’ll keep ours dim,” whispered Luke. “That will give us an advantage. It’s always best to be in the dark when you’re hunting a burglar.”
“Better be careful,” whispered Agnes, who, banished from the outside door, had taken her place in the kitchen, to be as near the excitement as possible.
“We will,” promised Luke.
Step by step he and Hal descended, their stocking-covered shoes making no sound. It was nervous work and they were under a strain. But they wanted to see the outcome of it all.