When he awoke with a start, aroused by the sound of the opening of the door, he stared blankly into the gloom and wondered for a moment where he was. An oblong of gray at the end of the spring-house drew his gaze. Two forms took shape, stumbled down the steps, and were lost in the darkness. Then the door was closed again save for a narrow crevice. His first thought that rescue was at hand was instantly dispelled. Some one coughed painfully, and then:
“Phew, I’m nigh dead with cold,” said a weak, husky voice. “Two miles from the village you said it was, didn’t yer? I’ll bet it’s five, all right.”
“Well, you’re here now, ain’t yer?” responded a deeper voice, impatiently. “So shut up. You make me tired, always kicking about something. What do you expect, any way? Think the old codger’s going to drive into town and hand the money over to yer? If you want anything you’ve got to work for it.”
The two had sprawled themselves out on the floor to the left of the doorway. Satterlee considered. Perhaps if he made his presence known, the men, who were evidently tramps, would let him depart unmolested. On the other hand, maybe they would be angry and cut his throat promptly and very expertly, and drop his body into the pool. He shivered and clenched his fists, resolved to perish bravely. He wished he were home in his own bed; he wished—then he stopped wishing and listened.
“How long we got to stay here?” asked the first tramp wearily.
“We’ll wait till ’bout twelve. The doctor’s a great hand at staying up late, I hear.”
“What time do you say it is now?”
“Half past eleven, I guess.”
“Phew!” The other whistled lugubriously. “I’ll be dead with the cold by that time, Joe.” He went off into a paroxysm of coughing that made Satterlee 2d, in spite of his terror, pity him, but which only brought from his companion an angry command to make less noise.
“All right,” was the husky response, “give me some ’baccy, Joe? There’s more’n time fer a bit of a smoke.” There followed sounds from across the darkness and Satterlee 2d surmised that each was filling his pipe. Then a match flared suddenly and lighted up the scene. The boy shut his eyes and held his breath. Then he opened them the least crack and peered across. The men were sitting just to the left of the doorway, diagonally across from him. Between them lay the black oblong of water splashed with orange by the flickering match. Satterlee 2d wondered if it would never burn out! He could see only a tangled beard, a glittering, half-closed eye, two big hands, between the fingers of which the guarded light shone crimson. The light went out and he drew a monstrous sigh of relief. The odor of tobacco floated across to him, strong and pungent.