After another long minute, he whispered in Mr. Grigsby's ear: "Put your shoulder against it, and when I say, 'Now!' drive it in. Are you ready? Now!"
Under the force of their united strength and weight the crazy door went down as if made of pasteboard, and with such surprising suddenness that both men fell in with it on the floor. A man leaped over them as they lay there, and rushed off into the darkness. Mr. Grigsby was the first to find his feet. He struck a match and held it high to look around the room.
"There's nobody here!" he said. "That fellow was holding the door, and let it go purposely to throw us when we threw our weight against it. Ha! here's his lantern."
MR. GRIGSBY EMPTIED THE BAG UPON THE FLOOR.
It was on the floor, and, when lighted, revealed a disorderly heap of stuff collected about a big carpet-bag, open, and partly packed. Without further ado Mr. Grigsby picked it up by the corners and emptied it upon the floor. At the very bottom were the missing lace and handkerchiefs, and, rolled up carefully in a white silk handkerchief, Mr. Tayloe's watch and chain. A roll of pillow-cases and towels was near by. Beyond was a stout sack of oznaburg containing four hams. A roll of homespun flannel, a box half full of candles, a bag of corn and one of oats, with articles of lesser value, were piled in the corners of the cabin. The haunted house was the cleverly chosen hiding-place of the booty collected during several weeks, perhaps for months.
"I wonder how long this has been going on?" said the Major, giving a long whistle as he stared about him. "No need of a search-warrant now for the Fogg house. They were too smart to store their plunder there. They are a sharp set! Not a negro would come within gun-shot of this place after sunset. Did you get a glimpse of the rascal who played us such a shabby trick?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Grigsby was busy with the lantern that just at that moment went out, leaving them in total darkness but for the dying daylight that found entrance through the open door. When the candle in the lantern was rekindled, the blaze made the overseer's face look ghastly, and his high cheek-bones threw his eyes into shadows. They seemed to have sunken further back into his head. When he spoke his voice was husky, as if the yellow fog without had settled there.
"If you will take charge of the watch I'll ram the laces and linen into the bag and carry it to the gig"—stooping to gather them while he talked. "Then I'll prop up the door for to-night. The rest of the things can be sent for to-morrow."