Part 24 (1/2)

”What was that?” I said, sleepily.

”Oh, nothing,” replied Halse. ”The wind rattled the window, I guess.”

I recollect thinking, that there was no wind that night, and I believe I said so, but I was very sleepy, and although I thought it queer that Halse should be sitting up to hear the wind, I soon fell into a drowse again and probably snored, for my room-mate often accused me of that offense.

I had not fallen soundly asleep, however, when I again heard the tapping at the window. A sly impulse, suggested probably by Halstead's demeanor, prompted me to play 'possum and pretend that I had not waked this time.

I even went on breathing hard, on that pretense.

Halstead was still sitting on the bed. He listened for a moment to my counterfeit breathing, then slid easily off and approached the window.

It was already raised a little and rested on a New Testament which Gram always kept in our room. Halse gently shoved the window higher and put out his head. The air of the quiet country night was very still, and I heard a hoa.r.s.e whisper from the ground outside, although I could not distinguish the words.

”Yes,” whispered Halstead in reply.

Then the whisper below resumed.

”I don't want to do that,” said Halstead.

The whisper outside rejoined, at some length.

”Perhaps,” answered Halse.

The other whisper continued.

”When?” asked Halstead.

The whisper replied for some moments.

”By eleven,” Halse then said. ”Not before.”

Then there was a good deal of whispering beneath, and Halstead replied, ”Well, I'll be there.”

Not long after, he crept back to bed, I meantime continuing my fraudulent hard breathing, although by this time I was very much awake and consumed by curiosity and suspicion. For at least half an hour, Halse tossed and turned about, seeming to be very restless and uneasy; in fact, he was still turning, when I fell asleep in very truth.

When I first waked next morning, I did not recollect this circ.u.mstance of the previous evening; in fact, it did not come into my mind till we had gone out to milk the cows. I then began to think it over earnestly and continued doing so throughout the forenoon. At first I had no thought of telling any one what I had heard, for although Halse had recently threatened me, I did not wish to play the spy on him.

But the idea that something wrong was on foot grew very strong within me. The more I pondered the circ.u.mstances the more certain I felt of it.

At length I concluded to speak of it to Theodora; for some reason my choice of a confidante fell instinctively on her.

We were ”cultivating” the corn that forenoon with old Sol, and hoeing it for the second time. Finally, I made an excuse to go to the house for a jug of sweetened water. While preparing it, I found opportunity to call Theodora into the wood-shed, and first exacting a promise of secrecy from her, I told her what had occurred the previous evening.

She seemed surprised at first, then terrified, and I went back to the field with my jug, leaving her greatly disturbed.

When we came in at noon, she motioned me aside in the pantry and said hurriedly, that I must tell Addison and ask him to speak with her after dinner.

Twice during the afternoon we saw Theodora out in sight of the corn-field, and I knew that she was anxiously looking for a word or sign from Addison. At last, towards supper time, taking advantage of a few minutes when Halse had gone to the horse pasture with old Sol, I briefly mentioned the thing to Addison and proffered Theodora's request for an interview.

Addison listened with a frown. ”I think I know who that was under the window,” said he. ”Halse has been running round with him, on the sly, for a month, and they've got some kind of a 'dido' planned out.”

”Suppose it is anything bad?” I queried.

”Oh, I don't know,” said Ad, impatiently. ”Bad enough, I'll warrant you.