“It’s a hole,” said Paddy Burk. “They still have a light below stairs, and it’s shining through.”
As they settled back to sleep, the first heavy drops of a rainfall set in. The pattering upon the shingles lulled them into that drowsy state which comes before deep slumber. Through the dim avenues of this, Ben had a consciousness that the rain had greatly increased and the wind had lifted, and after a little he became aware that some one was stirring without in the road. But in his dreamy condition the sounds seemed far away. Voices were heard, but as though they were the voices of persons in the distance. But the loud closing of a door aroused him to a more wakeful condition; heavy footfalls were heard below, and a voice spoke sharply to the landlord.
“I tell you, gentlemen,” said the latter, “I have no more room. The house is a small one, and——”
“Well, you’ll have to accommodate us somehow, Master Host,” said a voice which brought Ben to a sitting position. “There is no other place but the ‘Waggon’ at Germantown, and that’s too far in this weather. And to return to the city is out of the question.”
“We have but the one room for guests, sir,” stated the landlord. “That has but two beds and they both are occupied.”
“I told you that it would be better to continue,” said another voice, and at the sound of this Ben arose. “We still had a fair chance to come up with him, and——”
“That will do,” said the first voice. “A still tongue would be best suited to the occasion.”
Stepping softly across the floor Ben reached the place where the beam of light shot upward; through the crevice in the planks he had a good view of the public room below.
There in the center of the floor stood Tobias Hawkins, a riding whip in his hand; and against the chimneypiece leaned the long, bony form of the man with the yellow smile.
It was the work of an instant to awaken Paddy Burk. The Irish boy was one of those who come out of a sleep keen and alert; and he listened quietly as Ben whispered to him the necessary particulars as to the men below.