To the five of them, practically imprisoned, it seemed as if daylight would never come. But at last a faint brightness showed through the window, and gradually the objects in the room became more distinct. And, with the coming of the light, there came also sounds of life in the house. The voices of men sounded from the garden, and Charlie smiled.
“They’ll begin wondering about that rope and footprints under this window pretty soon,” he said. “And I guess none of them will be exactly anxious to tell Holmes, either.”
He was right, for in a few moments excited voices echoed from below, and then there was an argument.
“Well, he’s got to be told,” said one man. “It’s your job, Bill.”
“Suppose you do it yourself.”
Apparently, they finally agreed to go together. And five minutes later there was a commotion outside the door.
“Here’s where I take cover!” whispered Charlie, with a grin. And, just before the door was opened, and Holmes burst in, his face livid with anger, the lawyer hid himself behind a closet door.
Holmes started at the sight of the four girls standing there, fully dressed, his jaw dropping.
“So you’re all here?” he said, an expression of relief gradually succeeding his consternation. “Found you couldn’t get away, eh, Bessie? Why didn’t you come to the front door instead of climbing in that way? We’d have let you in all right.” He laughed, harshly.
“Well, I’ve had about all the trouble you’re going to give me,” he said. “Silas Weeks will be here to take care of you pretty soon, my girl, and now that he’s got you in the state where you belong, I guess you won’t get away again very soon.”