Billie Bradley and Her Classmates; Or, The Secret of the Locked Tower — John Locke — John Shaqi
Billie Bradley and Her Classmates; Or, The Secret of the Locked Tower
John Locke · en
The advantage was all Teddy’s, and for a moment it looked as though he
would fling himself upon the little man who stood cowering there. But he
hesitated, and while he hesitated the match burned out in his fingers
and they were left in the dark once more.
“Light another match, Teddy—quick,” whispered Billie, and he did.
This time the man lowered his hands from before his eyes and stood
blinking at them foolishly. He was so small and so slight and so puny
looking in every way that the gruff voice with which he had greeted them
in the beginning seemed little short of ridiculous.
And while they stared at the little man and the little man stared at
them, Teddy’s third match went out.
“Gosh,” said he, groping in his pocket for another. “I only hope they
hold out, that’s all. I’d hate to be left in the dark.”
He found a match and lit it rather shakily, for the whole thing was
beginning to get on his nerves. And as the uncertain light flared out
once more he saw that their queer new friend was holding something out
to him.
“Don’t touch it,” whispered Billie at his elbow. “It might be——”
“But it’s only a candle, Billie, and——” Teddy was beginning when the
little fellow himself interrupted impatiently.
“Light it, light it,” he commanded, glancing nervously over his shoulder
into the spooky corners of the cave. “Your match will be burnt out and
we will be left in the dark. The dark. I’m afraid of the dark. Hurry,
hurry!”
To Teddy and Billie at the same instant came the startling thought that
the man was a lunatic. His looks, his voice, his manner, were all proof
of it.
And while Teddy lighted the candle with his one remaining match, Billie
began to shiver wretchedly. If only they had not found the old cave
everything would have been all right. They might even have been home by
this time. For the moment she had forgotten how cold it was outside and
that neither she nor Teddy knew the way home.
While Teddy glanced about for some place to set the lighted candle, she
furtively studied the simpleton, into whose hiding-place they had been
unlucky enough to stumble.
He was about twenty-one, she guessed, scarcely more than a boy. His
features were as small as his body, his eyes little and red-rimmed and
shifty, with an expression of vacancy that made Billie’s blood run cold.
His hair, as nearly as she could tell in the flickering light, was red.
And while Billie watched him, he watched Teddy, and she was surprised to
see his vacant eyes suddenly fill with terror. Then, when Teddy turned
back, after setting the candle on a projecting piece of rock, the
simpleton came close to him, holding out shaking, imploring hands.
“Have you come to take me away? Have you?” he asked wildly, and then as
Teddy still continued to stare at him, he fell to the ground, groveling
in the dirt at the boy’s feet.
It was not a pretty sight, and with a little exclamation of disgust,
Teddy reached down, gripped the fellow’s collar and jerked him to his
feet.