Don opened the package; it contained a new lock similar to the one that Snell had broken.
“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Aunt Martha. “Donald, I believe I wronged that man.”
When Snell came down-stairs the following morning he made for the door without delay, but, quick as he was, Aunt Martha observed that he carried the marks of his encounter with Hawkins; one eye was partly discolored, and his cheek was swollen.
Later in the morning Don fixed the new lock in place and then hurried off to find Jud and tell him what had happened.
The day was warm for a day in late February; indeed the winter, which had begun with severe weather, had proved to be mild after all. The two boys directed their steps toward Walmer’s wharf at the foot of Beech Street, where they sat down in the sunlight with their backs against one of the deserted warehouses.
“We’ll be safe here,” said Don; “no one is likely to overhear what I’ve got to tell you, Jud.”
Jud leaned forward eagerly, and neither boy observed a third person, who had followed them at some distance and who now took a position just within hearing round the corner of the silent warehouse.
“Go on and tell it,” said Jud. “You’ve got me all curious.”
“Well, in our cellar——” began Don, and the hidden figure near the corner of the building slunk a step nearer. “In our cellar there’s quantities and quantities of linen and cloth and some powder——” And Don told of the purchase that his uncle had made before the blockade.
When he had finished that part of his story Jud whistled softly. “My, but that’s risky business, keeping it there,” he said. “Just suppose——”