But there was nothing to be gained by pursuing such thoughts—and far from being an onlooker, Bill was very much in the thick of it all. He descended, made another tour of the ground floor, and returned to the alcove. Feeling distinctly more cheerful, he ate a couple of cookies, took up his book and began to read. Perhaps five minutes later, he heard a gentle tap—
It was not imagination this time. Of that he was quite certain. Bill was perfectly calm. He had got over his bout of restlessness that had kept him on the jump. The only disturbing point about the sound was whether it came from within or without the house.
A leaf blowing against a window, that might have caused it. The creak of an old beam would have made the same sound. He waited in silence, and kept a tight grip on himself. No more strung-up nerves, whether this was a false alarm or not. Perhaps a minute later, he heard the click again.
With an exclamation of annoyance, Bill got to his feet, brushed aside the curtain, and peered into the hall.
He found himself face to face with Mr. Zenas Sanders.
Chapter IX
THE OFFER AND THE THREAT
“Good evening, Mr. Bolton,” said the intruder mockingly.
“Good evening,” Bill replied politely. “I don’t suppose it’s of any use to inquire how you got in?”
The man’s manner rather flabbergasted Bill. If there had been any suspicion of menace in Sanders’ attitude, Bill would have gone for him straightway with his fists.
“Not the slightest, Mr. Bolton!” And then with a nod and a smile, “Excuse me!”