“They are afraid to tell,” said Mrs. Kretz. “They fear those outside there; and they also fear the police.”
“Huh!” said Mr. Scanlon.
There was a long period of silence, for he felt that it were best to let her go her own way.
“For the people outside they watch,” said Mrs. Kretz, at length. “Always outside. But,” and the strong hands knotted together suddenly and her voice sank to a whisper, “who watches inside?”
“Inside?” said Bat quietly. “Do we need a watch inside? Are we not all friends in Schwartzberg?”
Here the girl laughed, though she did not look up from her work. And the laugh was one not pleasant to hear.
“You do not know,” said Mrs. Kretz, and she shook her head. “You do not see. One night since you came,” and here her voice was lowered once more, “a woman screamed. And a shot was fired. Do you remember?”
“I heard both,” said Bat. “But I don’t know the reason for either.”
“Lena was sick—with her tooth,” said Mrs. Kretz. “I went to speak to my husband. I saw the door of the vault standing open. And beside it was Miss Knowles, the key in her hand. I knew something was about to happen; I ran to the door to close it. Then the shot came—from below; she screamed; I closed and made fast the door.”
“Well?”