Quickly turning in the narrow, breathless space in which they found themselves, they saw a little star of light pierce the pitch blackness. It was the little peek hole made in the panel by the Weasel. Porky put his eye to the place. One instant he looked, and drew back as Hen pressed close. In turn they peered through the tiny hole. They shuddered as they did so. Then Hen, with all the caution he could summon, pushed open the door, and stepped out, covering the Wolf with a wicked-looking muzzle. The bound and gagged boy in the chair saw the strange group which had so suddenly and so mysteriously appeared, but for a moment the Wolf, who was standing with his back toward the wardrobe, was unaware of their presence. He was laughing—a cold-blooded, curdling, low laugh as he stooped toward the boy's bare feet, his lighted cigar in his hand. Already those feet were marred by cruel burns along the tender soles.
As he stopped, he watched his victim's eyes for a sign of surrender.
"Give me the names!" he demanded in his low snarling, smooth voice. He watched his victim's eyes and in them, suddenly, he saw a strange flash of hope, of amazement. Asa was looking over the Wolf's shoulder.
Without the least suspicion of the truth, the Wolf straightened up, and lazily turned. What lie saw wiped the sneering, malicious smile from his face.
Hen, his bulldog jaw set, held the revolver pointed straight at the traitorous heart.
"Hands up," barked Porky in a voice which seemed to come from some one else. He was not himself. The sight that had met his eyes, the bound figure, the blistered feet, the crouching Wolf with his low, fiendish laugh—it was all like a frightful electric shock to Porky, and in that horrible instant he came into his manhood. Behind him, at his shoulder, his twin brother went through the same agony of soul and he, too, felt a strange new thrill, an addition of courage and strength.
"Hands up!" said Porky again.
For a moment the sly eyes of the Wolf swept the room, then his hands were raised. He backed toward the table but a curt order from Hen, and he stood still.
"There's rope on that table," said Hen. "Get it and bind him."
Beany grabbed the rope, and bent to tie the ankles of the Wolf. Like a flash his hands came down, he seized the boy and clutching him in a vise-like grip, held him before him as a shield.