When Blake heard this he fairly quivered with an excess of emotion and zeal. He was only too delighted at such a chance to be “in at the death,” as he mentally termed it. How good it was of their friend the captain to allow them this privilege. Most army officers would have considered boys a nuisance, and, doubtless, ordered them to stay back until things had shaped themselves, and the danger was past; but then Captain Barclay lived in Oakvale, and knew just how bravely the scouts had carried themselves on numberless occasions.
All of them could see the house, for they were creeping forward again. It happened to be upon the side of the road where the low-lying moon’s rays did not fall, so that the shadows were fairly dense; but sharp eyes could make it out.
Blake was glad to notice that all seemed as still as death around the place. So far as he could see, there was no sign of a light visible. If the inmates were awake and burning a lamp, they must have first carefully drawn the shades, and otherwise darkened the windows, for try as Blake might, he failed to detect even a narrow shaft of illumination.
A near-panic gripped the boy’s rapidly beating heart. He feared that those they sought might not be at the roadhouse—that when the man in the flivver had arrived with Felix in his car they may have continued the flight, and by this time were many miles away.
However, Blake’s fright was of short duration. He remembered what Bud had said about mastering himself, and thus managed to get a firm grip on his weak heart.
Great care was taken while advancing to keep well in the shadow. Although everything seemed so still about the place, there was no telling whether the suspected inmates of the house were on guard or not. For all they knew, hostile eyes might be peering out from some crack, and ordinary caution required that they take just as much pains as though they knew this for a certainty.
By motions rather than even the lowest of words the captain stationed his four men. He had evidently planned his every move, and there was to be no hitch that would imperil the success of the enterprise.
When the armed guards had been placed, the next thing was to approach the door and knock. Blake again had a chilly feeling attack as he realized that the crisis was now at hand, when success or failure would follow. If repeated knocking went without any response, the chances were the house had been abandoned, and that they would have had all their trouble for their pains. Of course, though, Blake told himself, they would give the place a thorough overhauling, so as to make sure those they sought were not hiding.
Well, there was one comfort that appealed to him. This lay in the letter which Felix had written, and now in the possession of Hugh Hardin. If the worst came they could open that, and always have a chance that it would be what they wanted, an apology meant for Uncle Reuben’s eye.
The captain had stepped boldly up to the door. Blake saw him place his ear close to the panels, after trying the knob and finding that a key had been turned in the lock, for the door refused to open. If Captain Barclay detected the least sign of human occupancy, he gave no indication of it; but he did knock loudly with his knuckles.