But Jessie was nowhere to be seen, and a shadow of disappointment clouded his face as he halted the only too willing beast and clambered down between the spidery wheels. Nor did he wait to secure his faithful servitor, or to think of anything practical at all. He hustled up to the open doorway, and, pushing his head in through it, called till the echoes of the place rang––
“Ho, Jess! Ho, you, Jess! It’s me––Zip! I come to fetch you to home.”
The echoes died away and the place became still again. And somehow the quiet of it set him bristling. His hands flew to his guns and remained there while he stood listening. But no answer came, and his redundant hope slowly ebbed, leaving a muddy shore of apprehension.
Then, with one glance back over his shoulder, he moved into the building with much the stealth of a thief. In the living-room he stood and stared about him uncertainly. It was the same room he had been in before, and he remembered its every detail. Suddenly he pushed the evil of those recollections aside and called again––
“Ho, Jess! Ho-o-o!”
But the confidence had gone from his tone, and his call suggested an underlying doubt.
Again came the echoes. Again they died. Then––yes––there was a sound that had nothing to do with echoes. Again––yes––sure. It was the sound of someone moving in an upper room. He listened attentively, and again his eyes brightened with ready hope.
“Jess! Jess!” he called.
And this time there was an answer.
Without a moment’s hesitation, without a second’s thought, he dashed through an open doorway and ran up the narrow flight of stairs beyond.