“Hell.”
The men seemed to fall apart.
“All right, then! Here it is!” The words were whispered in a panting voice that I did not recognize.
Then I felt rather than saw that the slighter of the two figures tiptoed to the window next to the bed, peered through the dashing of rain outside for a moment, and then tiptoed as cautiously back.
“Into that corner! There, back of the screen! Miss Keate?”
“Yes.”
“Over here, quick!”
I stumbled a little as I passed the foot of the bed, found a hand outstretched in the darkness to guide me, and in a flash was in the darkest corner of the room, behind the burlap screen.
“Be quiet!” warned O’Leary sternly.
Beside me, breathing quickly, was that other man; as I shrank back a little I came in contact with something cold, touched it tentatively with my fingers and drew back, chilled. It was square and hard and pressing into the coat of the man at my side. It must be held in O’Leary’s hand.