For the first half hour neither experienced any Special discomfort. By the time that one o’clock had come and gone, both were beginning to feel the strain of sitting absolutely still in one position.
The distant note of the half hour found them weary, but holding their ground. Patsy was worse off than Bee. Bee could relax, at least a little, while she had to sit on the extreme edge of her trunk, constantly on the alert. Should their expected visitor enter the room, she must act with the swiftness of lightning or all their patient watching would have been in vain.
As she sat there it suddenly occurred to her how horrified her aunt would be, could she know what was going on only a few yards from where she slumbered so peacefully. Patsy could not resist giving a soft little chuckle.
“What is it?” whispered Bee.
“Nothing. Tell you to-morrow. I guess we can go to bed soon.”
“I guess so. It’s almost two o’clock.”
Silence again descended. The clock chimed three-quarters of the hour. Its plaintive voice ceased and the hush deepened until it seemed to Patsy almost too profound for endurance. And then it was broken by a sound, as of a door being softly opened.
Bee’s heart nearly skipped a beat as she listened. Patsy felt the cold chills race up and down her spine. Two pairs of eyes were now fastened in strained attention on the door. Was it opening? Yes, it surely was; slowly, very slowly. It was open at last! A huge white shape stood poised on the threshold. It moved forward with infinite caution. It had halted now, exactly on the spot where Bee had lately stood while Patsy tried out her prowess with the lariat.
Over in the corner Patsy was gathering herself together for the fateful cast. Up from the trunk she now shot like a steel spring. Through the air with a faint swishing sound the lariat sped. She pulled it taut to an accompaniment of the most blood-curdling shrieks she had ever heard. Next instant she felt herself being jerked violently forward.
“Bee!” she shouted desperately. “Take hold. I’m going!”