He crossed the floor carefully, stopping often to listen. At
last he heard a rustling sound just ahead of him. His fingers
tightened upon the revolver he carried in his right hand, by
the barrel, clublike. Billy had no intention of making any
more noise than necessary.
Again he heard a sound from the same direction. It was
not at all unlike the frightened gasp of a woman. Billy emitted
a low growl, in fair imitation of a prowling dog that has been
disturbed.
Again the gasp, and a low: "Go away!" in liquid feminine
tones--and in English!
Billy uttered a low: "S-s-sh!" and tiptoed closer. Extending
his hands they presently came in contact with a human body
which shrank from him with another smothered cry.
"Barbara!" whispered Billy, bending closer.
A hand reached out through the darkness, found him, and
closed upon his sleeve.
"Who are you?" asked a low voice.
"Billy," he replied. "Are you alone in here?"
"No, an old woman guards me," replied the girl, and at the
same time they both heard a movement close at hand, and
something scurried past them to be silhouetted for an instant
against the path of lesser darkness which marked the location
of the doorway.
"There she goes!" cried Barbara.
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