"Jump, oh, jump, Mr. Barker!" she whispered in a glow of terror,
"hurry! It _is_ somebody!"
He pointed silently to the ground below, and with her heart pounding
heavily she peered over the sill. Directly below them crouched a
Great Dane, brindled, enormous, one eye fixed sternly on the window.
The soft steps paused: perhaps she had imagined them! Perhaps, if
they kept quite still, that quaking pair, perhaps.... The man
breathed like a drowning swimmer; it seemed to Caroline she must
scream.
The door flew open.
"Look out, there--it's loaded!" the voice came sharp as a
cracked whip.
Caroline gave a shriek of joy.
"Why, it's Lindsay!" she cried, "it's just Cousin Lindsay!"
A tall, powerful young man came in behind a leveled revolver.
"Car--what--be still, there!" he gasped, steadying the weapon. The
man stood motionless, his eyes on the ground.
"It's all right--I never carried a gun in my life," he said quietly.
"Oh, Lindsay, it's only a joke!"
Caroline ran towards him, stopping in horror at the ugly winking
eyes of the revolver.
"Mr. Barker only meant--tell Lin about it!" she entreated, sick with
foreboding at the dogged man before her, the scornful flushed boy at
her side.
"I guess you better tell him, Missy," said the man in a low empty
voice.
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