United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Wetting his hand, he took from the fire-place a small quantity of ashes,
making them into a paste, and this he rubbed over the freshly cut space
until it had been darkened to a shade like unto the remainder of the
flooring, while I, eager to aid in whatsoever of work was being done,
picked up carefully each tiny shaving of wood, throwing them on the
embers that they might be consumed.
Then Hiram went through the same operation at a place directly above the
table, and within half an hour he had thus opened slight communication
with the room above. There was not much reason for hoping these tiny
apertures would serve the purpose for which they had been made; but yet
there was a possibility we could hear better what was said or done by
Master Lord's visitors, and to people in our situation every chance,
however slight, must be caught at.
"Why not learn what we can about yonder rubbish hole?" I asked when
Hiram seated himself at the table once more, as if there was nothing
else which demanded attention.
"It is not well to make a try at going too far at one time," he replied
with a certain air of content.
It was well I had not been looked upon as the leader of our little
company, otherwise we might have come to grief even before we had well
made a start toward arming ourselves against the possible treachery of
Master Lord.
I would have continued the work which was begun by making the
apertures, in the rubbish hole, regarding not the possibility of an
interruption; but should have hardly more than have commenced before our
host returned, when most-like everything might have been discovered.
As it was, thanks to Hiram's precaution, we four were seated at the
table in a most comfortable manner, as if having nothing on our minds
save pleasure, when Job Lord, who must have come into the house with the
utmost caution in order to learn what we might be about, raised the
trap-door suddenly, peering down before venturing to descend.
There was no question after this but that he was minded to make certain
we followed his advice, and thus sneaking into the house like a spy to
catch us unawares was further proof that he meditated mischief.
For the life of me I could not have greeted the scoundrel in a friendly
tone; but Hiram hailed him as if believing he was our best friend, and
asked in a jovial tone that he come down and partake of the sumptuous
dinner.
Master Lord looked well content with himself, which meant that he was
satisfied we were minded to do as he bade us, when he descended the
ladder and took seat in a most affable manner at the table.
"I have been out on your business," he said, helping himself to a slice
of roasted lamb.
"And I dare venture to say you have done more in an hour than we four
could have accomplished in a full week," Hiram added genially.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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