The Oakdale Affair [24]
to break. They didn't dare go down and they begged him not to leave them up there alone.
At this Dopey Charlie spoke up. The 'hop' had com- menced to assert its dominion over his shattered nervous system instilling within him a new courage and a feel- ing of utter well-being. "Go on down," said he to Bridge. "The General an' I'll look after the kids--won't we bo?"
"Sure," assented The General; "we'll take care of 'em."
"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Bridge; "we'll leave the kids up here and we three'll go down. They won't go, and I wouldn't leave them up here with you two morons on a bet."
The General and Dopey Charlie didn't know what a moron was but they felt quite certain from Bridge's tone of voice that a moron was not a nice thing, and anyway no one could have bribed them to descend into the darkness of the lower floor with the dead man and the grisly THING that prowled through the haunted chambers; so they flatly refused to budge an inch.
Bridge saw in the gradually lighting sky the near ap- proach of full daylight; so he contented himself with making the girl and the youth walk briskly to and fro in the hope that stimulated circulation might at least par- tially overcome the menace of the damp clothing and the chill air, and thus they occupied the remaining hour of the night.
From below came no repetition of the inexplicable noises of that night of terror and at last, with every ob- ject plainly discernible in the light of the new day, Bridge would delay no longer; but voiced his final de- termination to descend and make a fire in the old kitchen stove. Both the boy and the girl insisted upon accom- panying him. For the first time each had an opportunity to study the features of his companions of the night. Bridge found in the girl and the youth two dark eyed, good-looking young people. In the girl's face was, per- haps, just a trace of weakness; but it was not the face of one who consorts habitually with criminals. The man appraised her as a pretty, small-town girl who had been led into a temporary escapade by the monotony of village life, and be would have staked his soul that she was not a bad girl.
The boy, too, looked anything other than the role he had been playing. Bridge smiled as he looked at the clear eyes, the oval face, and the fine, sensitive mouth and thought of the youth's claim to the crime battered sobriquet of The Oskaloosa Kid. The man wondered if the mystery of the clanking chain would prove as harm- lessly infantile as these two whom some accident of hi- larious fate had cast in the roles of debauchery and crime.
Aloud, he said: "I'll go first, and if the spook ma- terializes you two can beat it back into the room." And to the two tramps: "Come on, boes, we'll all take a look at the lower floor together, and then we'll get a good fire going in the kitchen and warm up a bit."
Down the hall they went, Bridge leading with the boy and girl close at his heels while the two yeggs brought up the rear. Their footsteps echoed through the deserted house; but brought forth no answering clank- ing from the cellar. The stairs creaked beneath the unaccustomed weight of so many bodies as they de- scended toward the lower floor. Near the bottom Bridge came to a questioning halt. The front room lay entirely within his range of vision, and as his eyes swept it he gave voice to a short exclamation of surprise.
The youth and the girl, shivering with cold and ner- vous excitement, craned their necks above the man's shoulder.
"O-h-h!" gasped The Oskaloosa Kid. "He's gone," and, sure enough, the dead man had vanished.
Bridge stepped quickly down the remaining steps, entered the rear room which had served as dining room and kitchen, inspected the two small bedrooms off this room, and the summer kitchen beyond. All were empty; then he turned and re-entering the front room bent his steps toward the cellar stairs. At the foot of the stair- way leading to the second floor lay the flash lamp that the boy had dropped the night before. Bridge stooped, picked it
At this Dopey Charlie spoke up. The 'hop' had com- menced to assert its dominion over his shattered nervous system instilling within him a new courage and a feel- ing of utter well-being. "Go on down," said he to Bridge. "The General an' I'll look after the kids--won't we bo?"
"Sure," assented The General; "we'll take care of 'em."
"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Bridge; "we'll leave the kids up here and we three'll go down. They won't go, and I wouldn't leave them up here with you two morons on a bet."
The General and Dopey Charlie didn't know what a moron was but they felt quite certain from Bridge's tone of voice that a moron was not a nice thing, and anyway no one could have bribed them to descend into the darkness of the lower floor with the dead man and the grisly THING that prowled through the haunted chambers; so they flatly refused to budge an inch.
Bridge saw in the gradually lighting sky the near ap- proach of full daylight; so he contented himself with making the girl and the youth walk briskly to and fro in the hope that stimulated circulation might at least par- tially overcome the menace of the damp clothing and the chill air, and thus they occupied the remaining hour of the night.
From below came no repetition of the inexplicable noises of that night of terror and at last, with every ob- ject plainly discernible in the light of the new day, Bridge would delay no longer; but voiced his final de- termination to descend and make a fire in the old kitchen stove. Both the boy and the girl insisted upon accom- panying him. For the first time each had an opportunity to study the features of his companions of the night. Bridge found in the girl and the youth two dark eyed, good-looking young people. In the girl's face was, per- haps, just a trace of weakness; but it was not the face of one who consorts habitually with criminals. The man appraised her as a pretty, small-town girl who had been led into a temporary escapade by the monotony of village life, and be would have staked his soul that she was not a bad girl.
The boy, too, looked anything other than the role he had been playing. Bridge smiled as he looked at the clear eyes, the oval face, and the fine, sensitive mouth and thought of the youth's claim to the crime battered sobriquet of The Oskaloosa Kid. The man wondered if the mystery of the clanking chain would prove as harm- lessly infantile as these two whom some accident of hi- larious fate had cast in the roles of debauchery and crime.
Aloud, he said: "I'll go first, and if the spook ma- terializes you two can beat it back into the room." And to the two tramps: "Come on, boes, we'll all take a look at the lower floor together, and then we'll get a good fire going in the kitchen and warm up a bit."
Down the hall they went, Bridge leading with the boy and girl close at his heels while the two yeggs brought up the rear. Their footsteps echoed through the deserted house; but brought forth no answering clank- ing from the cellar. The stairs creaked beneath the unaccustomed weight of so many bodies as they de- scended toward the lower floor. Near the bottom Bridge came to a questioning halt. The front room lay entirely within his range of vision, and as his eyes swept it he gave voice to a short exclamation of surprise.
The youth and the girl, shivering with cold and ner- vous excitement, craned their necks above the man's shoulder.
"O-h-h!" gasped The Oskaloosa Kid. "He's gone," and, sure enough, the dead man had vanished.
Bridge stepped quickly down the remaining steps, entered the rear room which had served as dining room and kitchen, inspected the two small bedrooms off this room, and the summer kitchen beyond. All were empty; then he turned and re-entering the front room bent his steps toward the cellar stairs. At the foot of the stair- way leading to the second floor lay the flash lamp that the boy had dropped the night before. Bridge stooped, picked it