“I tell you I heard a strange voice,” insisted Mark Harwood.
“Bah!” The owner of the big voice was a huge man, with massive limbs and the torso of a giant. As he came down the hall he grumbled, “How long are you going to keep us at this place, anyhow; let’s put the torch to it and be off.”
“Plenty of time for that,” said Mark. “Don’t be in a hurry.”
“Hurry,” growled the big man. “We’ve been here,” he drew out a heavy gold watch, “almost three hours,” he continued, consulting the timepiece.
“Oh, your watch is wrong!”
“Wrong! This watch is never wrong. But, hold on, let’s compare it with Master Foster’s clock.”
Tom held his breath as the speaker paused before the clock.
“Hello, the confounded thing has stopped,” said the big man. “Run down, I suppose. Wait, gentlemen; I’ll do Foster a favor by opening his clock and winding it up.”
He had his hand upon the catch of the clock door when Mark Harwood pulled him away.
“Never mind the clock,” said the latter; “let us attend to more important matters.”