“Probably Old Uncle Ned,” the girl whispered.
And then, from Ed: “Here we are. Now for the key.”
Up a tall flight of stairs they tiptoed. Next moment they were inside some place that seemed vast and silent in that darkness.
“Wait!”
Berley moved about. There were sounds of shades being drawn.
“Now.”
A match flared. Shavings on the hearth blazed up. Soon a great fire on the wide hearth was burning freely and the place was as light as day.
They were safe enough for all that. The massive door was locked and barred. The windows were high from the ground, and all were shaded.
Red took the place in with one sweeping glance. The fireplace was immense. Up from this ran a wide chimney covered by a curious rug woven by Indians.
Before the fire were wide-seated, comfortable chairs. On the mantel stood a rustic clock made of birchwood. Berley set this going. Its cheerful tick-tock, tick-tock filled the silent place.