"Keep him impatient." Frenchy grinned as they descended the steps.
Inside the cellar room the two men sat at the table and conversed, while Jupe, after a short prowl, took his place on one of the pine-board boxes. Neither of the men paid any attention to him. At times the ape-faced man raised him head as if to listen. But fear of Chefano's wrath prevented him from making any motion.
Yet Jupe was not satisfied.
His keen ears seemed to detect a strange noise that did not cease — a noise that neither Chefano nor Frenchy would have heard if they had listened for it.
CHAPTER XXXI. DUNCAN GOES ALONE
Two of the three men in Josh Stevens's cottage were growing sleepy. The rain that dripped outside was quieting.
"Half past eleven," said Harry Vincent. "I'm tired. I'm glad you came along this afternoon, major. It's nice to know that we don't have to go out in the rain."
The Englishman gave a sleepy laugh.
"A good night to sleep," he said. "But I don't feel like dying. I'm rather pleased that I did come in time to look around a bit."
"No more wireless messages?" inquired Bruce Duncan, impatiently.