“Stay where we are when we ain’t got a light.”
“Right. I forgot. Who d’you think tis?”
“Lissen!”
They listened intently. A muffled cough, the sound of something metallic falling, nothing escaped them. The footsteps were measured and heavy and seemed to circle the kitchen interminably.
“Sounds like him, kid!” Nickie whispered fearfully. “I know them big feeta his’n. He’s got the biggest dogs I ever seen. Ever notice?”
“Nope.” Skippy thought how queer that Nickie should speak of such details at a fearful time like this. But people did that—he was beginning to realize that one was apt to say and do almost anything strange in moments of distress.
“Say, kid!”
“Yeah?”
“If it’s him ... what bout that lock I picked in his room ... what about the ladder?”
“I been thinkin’,” Skippy answered breathlessly. “Lissen, Nick—you don’t know nothin’ bout that lock, neither do I! Frost said sump’n about how he lost his keys when he was beatin’ it with Shorty and Biff—get me? He musta picked the lock himself. We found the door that way when we come upstairs after they blew. We were lookin’ for a ladder to go up in the attic—we wanted to go up an’ snoop round for sump’n to do. We seen the closet door standin’ open an’ there was the ladder.”