They'll be here in a couple of
hours and you'll be free. Nobody will be the wiser. Curse your whining!
Shut up! Damn you, get back in there! Don't give me away to Davy, and
I'll swear to help you out of this."
A minute or two later, he dragged her back into the cabin,
moaning, pleading, and crying from the pain of a sudden blow. Ten
minutes afterward he went forth again, this time ostensibly to meet Sam;
but Rosalie knew that he was gone forever.
CHAPTER XXI
The Trap-Door
A sickly new moon threw vague ghostly beams across the willow-lined
swamp, out beyond the little cabin that stood on its border. Through the
dense undergrowth and high among the skeleton treetops ugly shadows
played with each other, while a sepulchral orchestra of wind and bough
shrieked a dirge that flattened in Bonner's ears; but it was not the
weird music of the swamp that sent the shudder of actual terror through
the frame of the big athlete.
A series of muffled, heartbreaking moans, like those of a woman in dire
pain, came to his ears. He felt the cold perspiration start over his
body. His nerves grew tense with trepidation, his eyes wide with horror.
Instinctively, his fingers clutched the revolver at his side and his
gaze went toward the black, square thing which marked the presence of
the haunted house. The orchestra of the night seemed to bring its dirge
to a close; a chill interlude of silence ensued.
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