"Hallo, the house!"
"There they are," whispered Tom, thrusting his hand into his breast pocket and glancing toward Rodney as if to assure himself that the latter could be depended on in an emergency.
"Sit down and keep perfectly quiet," said Mrs. Merrick, in a calm tone. "They are ready to shoot, and you mustn't move about for fear of throwing your shadow upon one of the window curtains."
[Illustration: MRS. MERRICK STANDS GUARD.]
"Are they looking for your husband?" Rodney managed to ask.
"I suppose they are," answered the woman, who did not even change color.
"I will go to the door and find out."
"You mustn't," protested Rodney. "Mr. Merrick said he didn't take any notice of hails after dark."
"He doesn't, but I do," replied the wife. "Somebody must answer, or we couldn't live in this country a day longer."
"Do you recognize the voice?"
"Of course not," said Tom Percival. "They are strangers from some other county."