So to Hal McCormack’s house, three blocks away, they went. No words were spoken. The matter had become too serious. The two boys carrying the separated fragments mounted the steps cautiously and deposited their several burdens on the porch floor.
“Now,” said Ben, as he retraced his steps to the sidewalk, “beat it!”
They did not wait upon the order of their going, but went at once.
Up-stairs, in bed, Hal faintly heard a shuffling, scraping noise on the porch beneath his room, then, overcome by weariness, indifferent to all noises from whatever source they might proceed, he fell asleep.
[CHAPTER II]
When Hal McCormack came down to breakfast on the morning following Hallowe’en, he found that the other members of the family had almost completed their morning meal. But it was apparent, from the atmosphere surrounding the table, that something had gone wrong. His mother looked worried, his young sisters looked curious, and his father, who was captain of the local company of the National Guard, had a stern and military air.
“Halpert,” said Captain McCormack, “before you take your seat at the table you will please go to the front porch and see what is there.”
The request was such an unusual one that Hal stood for a moment wondering and motionless. But only for a moment. He had been accustomed from childhood to give ready obedience to his father’s commands, and, without comment or question, he obeyed now. Two minutes later he again entered the dining-room.