"If I only had my revolver I would bring the scoundrel to terms," he muttered, regretfully. "I had to leave it home this night of all nights. As it is, I haven't a solitary weapon. A bamboo cane wouldn't hurt a fly. Ah, I'll try the lantern."
Creeping across the floor he secured the object just as the ex-bookkeeper reached the door. Returning to his post, the lad waited with rapidly beating heart.
CHAPTER XII. THE STRUGGLE IN THE "GO-DOWN."
That Willis Round meant injury was plainly evident. But whether he came as a thief or incendiary was yet to be ascertained. He knew the ground well, so he lost little time in entering. After closing the door he hesitated.
At his elbow stood the brave lad with lantern raised in readiness. At the first sign of a light, or the scratch of a match, he meant to strike with all the power of his arm. The lantern was a heavy iron affair, and Willis Round was as near death at that moment as he probably had been during his eventful career.
His knowledge of the "go-down's" interior saved him. After a brief pause he started toward the main portion of the warehouse. At his heels crept Nattie, silent, determined, resolute.
The main room of the warehouse was crowded with bales of silk, chests of tea, and various boxes containing lacquered ware. These had been arranged in an orderly manner with passageways extending between the different piles.
In one thing the lad had an advantage; he was thoroughly conversant with the arrangement of the goods, while Round had only a general knowledge of the interior. The latter stumbled several times, but he made no move to show a light.