It was only as they rounded the last curve that brought them in full view of their home that the full significance of Heinie’s work that night burst upon them.
They greeted the scene that lay before them in tragic silence. The home that had housed the Ramsey tribe for a dozen generations was a wreck. A bomb had landed on the east end and torn it completely away. Gone was the prim little parlor with its very formal furniture, gone the cozy dining room with its array of ancient willow-ware and rare glass-ware. Gone was the big four-poster bed on which Cherry and Alice had slept since they were tiny tots, and gone all the countless treasures that had adorned their rooms.
“Le—t—, let’s have a look.” Brand climbed out of the car. He was trying to be nonchalant about the whole affair and making a bad job of it.
Dave climbed out after him. Then, after ten seconds of listening, he flashed on the spy’s powerful light. At once the whole wrecked place stood out in bold relief.
By some miracle the great chimney had withstood the shock. The fireplace had been blown clean of ashes.
“Dave, you were a gem.” These were Cherry’s first words. “If there had been a spark of fire!”
“It’s a miracle that anything is left,” said Applegate. “Of course you’ll all come up to live with us.”
“Oh, no.” Alice spoke slowly. “The children would worry Lady Applegate. I—I’m sorry. We still have furniture and cooking things. I’m sure quite enough. And there’s the Hideout up at the foot of the hill. It’s quite large and hidden among the trees. We may,” she hesitated, “may need to borrow a few dishes. We—we don’t seem to have any.”
“There are whole china cupboardsful at our house. I’ll have a car full of them down first thing in the morning.
“Sure that’s all?” the young Lord asked anxiously.