The front room revealed no clue to the missing men. Within
the smaller, rear room Byrne heard the subdued hum of
whispered conversation just as he was about to open the
door. Like a graven image he stood in silence, his ear glued to
the frail door. For a moment he listened thus and then his
heart gave a throb of exultation, and he could have shouted
aloud in thanksgiving--the men were conversing in English!
Quietly Byrne pushed open the door far enough to admit
his body. Those within ceased speaking immediately. Byrne
closed the door behind him, advancing until he felt one of the
occupants of the room. The man shrank from his touch.
"I guess we're done for, Mallory," said the man in a low
tone; "they've come for us."
"Sh-sh," warned the mucker. "Are you and Mallory
alone?"
"Yes--for God's sake who are you and where did you
come from?" asked the surprised Mr. Harding.
"Be still," admonished Byrne, feeling for the cords that he
knew must bind the captive.
He found them presently and with his jackknife cut them
asunder. Then he released Mallory.
"Follow me," he said, "but go quietly. Take off your shoes
if you have 'em on, and hang 'em around your neck--tie the
ends of the laces together."
The men did as he bid and a moment later he was leading
them across the room, filled with sleeping men, women, children,
and domestic animals.
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