There was no answer, and then Alex., reaching into a capacious pocket, brought out a small electric torch and pushed the button. On board the Rambler or on shore, it was a rule of the boys never to move about without an electric torch and an automatic revolver ready for use.
When the light flashed out, its round circle showed only a room twenty feet square in size, with bare discolored walls. Plastering hung to broken lath, so they knew that they were on the ground floor of the deserted house, and not in the cellar. The floor was worn, and the rough boards which half protected the broken windows showed signs of having been long in position. There was no furniture at all in the place.
“Looks like we might rip off a board and walk out,” Jule said, still speaking in a very low tone of voice.
“Don’t you ever think we’re not watched!” Alex. hastened to say. “I don’t know but I made a mistake in showing this light.”
“There’s only one way to discover whether we are watched or not,” said the other, “and that is to try to get away. I’m going after that window.”
As Jule spoke he moved toward a window which seemed to open on the bayou, as a gleam of water could be seen through the cracks in the window-guard. The instant his hand touched a crumbling board a voice came out of the darkness.
“I wouldn’t do that, boys!”
That was all. Jule stopped at the uncanny interruption with a hand suspended in air, and Alex. quickly flashed his light in the direction from which the sound had come.
There was no one in sight. Rats or other creeping, crawling, things seemed to be working in the disreputable walls, for there was a continuous scratching noise, but there were no other sounds. Alex. shut off the light and sat down on the floor again.
“I guess it is no use!” he said. “We’ll have to surrender!”