“All ready?” softly questioned Patsy, moving back toward the end of the room farthest from the door.
“Yes,” came the sibilant whisper.
An instant and Patsy had made a successful cast.
“It works splendidly,” she softly exulted. “Lets try it again.”
A few more trials of her prowess and she was satisfied to recoil the rope and sit down on the bed beside Bee.
“It’s time to unlock the door, Bee,” she murmured as the chime of midnight rang faintly on their ears from a tall clock at the end of the corridor.
“All right.”
Bee rose, tiptoed softly to the door and turned the key. Stealing back across the room she took up her position of vigilance a few feet from Patsy, seating herself upon a little low stool.
Patsy had posted herself on the edge of her trunk, lariat coiled, ready to spring into action at a moments notice. Over the house now hung the uncanny silence of midnight, so tense in its stillness that the two watchers could hear each other breathe.