“Bad as last night,” Skippy answered mournfully. “We gotta expect headaches in a hot, dark house like this, huh? Gee whiz, Nickie, sump’n’s gotta happen to get us outa here soon or I’ll be like Timmy, I guess. Here it’s only the second mornin’ an’ I feel like it’s a year.”
Nickie was up and listening at the door while Skippy was talking. “Where is he?” he asked, on the alert.
“Frost went downstairs most an hour ago, so don’t worry. I heard him walkin’ an’ walkin’ round his room just like he had sump’n on his mind. Then all of a sudden he comes out into the hall’n’ locks his door like he always does an’ beats it downstairs. Sump’n must be up.”
Skippy was right—something was up. They found out what it was when they appeared in the kitchen for breakfast a few minutes later. Frost was hurrying back and forth from the yard and down to the cellar bearing pails of water from the pump outside.
“I’m putting five days’ water supply in the crock down cellar,” he explained after his last trip. “Keep the cover on it tight like I’m leaving it, and it’ll stay fresh and cold. There’s canned stuff and other grub so you can feed and I’ll show you how else you can manage before I leave.”
“You beatin’ it?” Nickie asked.
“Mm,” Frost murmured. His colorless eyes dropped before their gaze. And, as if to change the subject, he asked: “D’ye know if them Greek kids are awake?”
“No, we didn’t hear a thing when we come down,” Skippy answered promptly. Then, out of a clear sky he hurled the query: “Why, you ain’t takin’ ’em away, are you, Mr. Frost?”
Frost was disconcerted. “Why—er—sure!” he stammered. “I am! I—if Dev—if Barker comes back—he should be here by Wednesday, tell him there’s a note in the room explainin’ matters.” He blinked his colorless eyes, then added: “I’m lockin’ you kids up for five days, but I’m leavin’ you the run of the house—that’s how much I trust you!”
“Says you!” Nickie sneered.