It was Hargis returning with the ladders. I had him hang them up
against the shed where he kept his gardening implements, for I did not
wish him to suspect the invasion we had planned; then, just to kill
time and get away from Swain, I spent an hour with Hargis in his
garden; and finally came the summons to dinner. An hour later, as we
sat on the front porch smoking, and still finding little or nothing to
say, Mrs. Hargis came out to bid us good-night.
"Mr. Swain can use the bedroom next to yours, Mr. Lester," she said.
"Perhaps he won't stay all night," I said. "If he does, I'll show him
the way to it. And thank you very much, Mrs. Hargis."
"Is there anything else I can do, sir?"
"No, thank you."
"Mr. Godfrey will be here a little before midnight--at least, that's
his usual time."
"We'll wait up for him," I said. "Good night, Mrs. Hargis."
"Good night, sir," and she went back into the house.
I have never passed through a longer or more trying hour than the next
one was, and I could tell by the way Swain twitched about in his chair
that he felt the tedium as much as I. Once or twice I tried to start a
conversation, but it soon trickled dry; and we ended by smoking away
moodily and staring out into the darkness.
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