To the roof of the veranda clambered the three prowlers,
and across it to an open window. The window belonged to
the bedroom of Miss Barbara Harding. Here they paused and
listened, then two of them entered the room. They were gone
for but a few minutes. When they emerged they showed
evidences, by their gestures to the third man who had awaited
outside, of disgust and disappointment.
Cautiously they descended as they had come and made
their way back to those other men who had remained with
the horses. Here there ensued a low-toned conference, and
while it progressed Barbara Harding reached forth a steady
hand which belied the terror in her soul and plucked the
revolver from Eddie Shorter's lap. Eddie slept on.
Again on tiptoe the girl recrossed the office to the locked
door leading into the back room. The key was in the lock.
Gingerly she turned it, keeping a furtive eye upon the sleeping
guard, and the muzzle of his own revolver leveled menacingly
upon him. Eddie Shorter stirred in his sleep and raised a hand
to his face. The heart of Barbara Harding ceased to beat while
she stood waiting for the man to open his eyes and discover
her; but he did nothing of the kind. Instead his hand dropped
limply at his side and he resumed his regular breathing.
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