“Chloroform!” he gasped, pointing to a small bottle which stood upon the bedstand. “Isn’t that a towel on the pillow beside his head? Throw it into the corner, Denny, and then get back into the other room, quick!”
Galvanized into life Dennis obeyed, retrieving his flashlight as he went. McCarty waited only long enough to open the two windows wide before rejoining him.
“Aren’t we going to raise an alarm?” Dennis demanded excitedly, but McCarty lowered his own voice to a whisper once more.
“We are not, to get ourselves accused! We’re going to beat it out the way we came as fast as the Lord’ll let us. Don’t open your mouth again till we get beyond the gates! Sure, the devil himself is let loose!”
Down the stairs they went, through the pantries and lower front hall to the card-room. The distance seemed interminable and every footstep resounded maddeningly in their nerve-shaken ears, but they did not pause until they reached the little side door and Dennis had shot the bolts back.
“Wait till we put on our shoes again,” McCarty admonished. “There’s no room to do it out in that alley and we’re safe enough now, but hurry!”
Shod once more, they stole out, closing the door noiselessly behind them. The watchman had passed on in the direction of the east gate and they sped to the opposite one, passing through it just before he turned.
All desire for speech seemed to have left Dennis and they walked northward for several blocks before McCarty broke the silence.
“I suppose you think ’twas queer we didn’t take that heaven-sent opportunity to search the house without Orbit, at least, to interrupt us, Denny, but there was no telling how long he’d been under that chloroform nor when he’d come out of it, and we could not say we’d scared away whoever did it to him or we would not have sneaked in ourselves.”
“How do you know he wasn’t dead?” Dennis’ tone held a volume of reproach.