“Oh, Teddy, hush,” whispered Billie frantically. “He’ll hear you.”
Evidently the intruder had heard them. He stopped short as though listening. Billie and Teddy could distinctly hear his heavy breathing while they held their own.
Then a hoarse, strident voice challenged them.
“Who are ye?” it cried, menacingly. “Whoever y’are ye’ve got to git out. I’ll teach ye to go breakin’ into my cave and meddlin’ with my things. Come out o’thet, will ye?”
For answer, Teddy lighted a match, holding it high above his head while he studied the intruder. The latter, evidently startled by the sudden light, staggered back a little and flung his hand before his eyes.
The advantage was all Teddy’s, and for a moment it looked as though he would fling himself upon the little man who stood cowering there. But he hesitated, and while he hesitated the match burned out in his fingers and they were left in the dark once more.
“Light another match, Teddy—quick,” whispered Billie, and he did.
This time the man lowered his hands from before his eyes and stood blinking at them foolishly. He was so small and so slight and so puny looking in every way that the gruff voice with which he had greeted them in the beginning seemed little short of ridiculous.
And while they stared at the little man and the little man stared at them, Teddy’s third match went out.
“Gosh,” said he, groping in his pocket for another. “I only hope they hold out, that’s all. I’d hate to be left in the dark.”