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Page 32
Porky whispered a word of command, and noiselessly the boys
ascended. The night was pitch dark, but their eyes growing
accustomed to the gloom, they made their way without a stumble.
Reaching the place where the lower building met the taller one,
they found they could not get from the stairway to the other
roof. There was nothing for it but to go on up the remaining
story, cross the roof of the building and drop down to the lower
level. They tiptoed over the flat, pebbled roof, clung to the
eaves, and one by one made the long drop in safety, the only
damage being scratched and bruised palms as they sprawled on
the rough roofing.
A glass skylight was set in the middle of the roof. They hurried
to it and Hen, with a quick twist, worked it loose, and tipped it
noiselessly back on the roof.
"Take off your shoes!" he whispered.
They felt their way down the rough ladder that led from the
skylight to the attic, and stood motionless, scarcely breathing
in the dense darkness.
Hen, who had the flashlight, feared to press the button. There
was not a sound, save a little sputter which they rightly laid to
the wireless machine which the Weasel had told them about. In a
moment, (it seemed years) Hen decided that they must have light,
even at the risk of discovery, and his flashlight illumined the
room in which they stood. Immediately Porky pointed to the big
chimney, and the pile of lumber stacked beside it. He touched
the others, and led the way. They went noiselessly across the
uneven floor, and reaching the boards, found, as the Weasel had
said, a narrow opening in the floor.
As the three neared the bottom of the ladder, a scream, muffled
and choked but full of agony, sounded close to them. The boys
recognized that thin, boyish tone, even in its torture. They
felt their hair rise on their scalps as they listened.
Quickly turning in the narrow, breathless space in which they
found themselves, they saw a little star of light pierce the
pitch blackness. It was the little peek hole made in the panel
by the Weasel. Porky put his eye to the place. One instant he
looked, and drew back as Hen pressed close. In turn they peered
through the tiny hole. They shuddered as they did so. Then Hen,
with all the caution he could summon, pushed open the door, and
stepped out, covering the Wolf with a wicked-looking muzzle. The
bound and gagged boy in the chair saw the strange group which had
so suddenly and so mysteriously appeared, but for a moment the
Wolf, who was standing with his back toward the wardrobe, was
unaware of their presence. He was laughing--a cold-blooded,
curdling, low laugh as he stooped toward the boy's bare feet, his
lighted cigar in his hand. Already those feet were marred by
cruel burns along the tender soles.
As he stopped, he watched his victim's eyes for a sign of
surrender.
"Give me the names!" he demanded in his low snarling, smooth
voice. He watched his victim's eyes and in them, suddenly, he
saw a strange flash of hope, of amazement. Asa was looking over
the Wolf's shoulder.
Without the least suspicion of the truth, the Wolf straightened
up, and lazily turned. What lie saw wiped the sneering,
malicious smile from his face.
Hen, his bulldog jaw set, held the revolver pointed straight at
the traitorous heart.
"Hands up," barked Porky in a voice which seemed to come from
some one else. He was not himself. The sight that had met his
eyes, the bound figure, the blistered feet, the crouching Wolf
with his low, fiendish laugh--it was all like a frightful
electric shock to Porky, and in that horrible instant he came
into his manhood. Behind him, at his shoulder, his twin brother
went through the same agony of soul and he, too, felt a strange
new thrill, an addition of courage and strength.
"Hands up!" said Porky again.
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