The Saltmarsh Murders Read Online Free PDF Page B

whisper, “it was a biggish tom-cat. They’re fearfully heavy, some tom-cats. As heavy as dogs. And the kind of noise reminded me rather of a cat, too.”
    â€œDid it, ducky?” whispered Cora, trying her hardest to believe him. “How I wish David and the blackie would come back, though, all the same.”
    â€œSo do I, rather,” said William, glancing at the clock. “I really ought to be going home.”
    â€œOh, but you can’t!” said Cora, wildly. She clung to his arm with both her big, plump hands. “I’d die of fright, if you was to leave me now! I’ll tell you what! Let’s telephone your uncle. You’re on the ‘phone, I suppose, aren’t you?”
    â€œWe’re on the ‘phone, yes,” said William, giving her the number.
    She picked up the receiver and had just concluded that rather breathless message, received, as a matter of fact, by me, when the peculiar scrabbling noises began again. This time, even the pugnacious William did not want to go and investigate. Cora was white with terror. After about two minutes, the noises ceased again.
    â€œWhatever it is, it’s still up there,” said William. “What ought we to do?”
    â€œStay here,” said Cora, her teeth chattering.
    â€œYou don’t think,” said William, “that the others are in danger?”
    Cora groaned aloud.
    â€œDucky, they might be. He might get them as they come in. Oh, my Lawks, whatever shall I do! I’m so terrified of that there Gatty, revengeful little toad!”
    She picked up the poker.
    â€œI’ll have that,” said William. “You won’t hit hard enough. You have the shovel, and whack them round the chops with it. I can’t be hanged if I kill anybody, that’s another thing. You
can.”
    They advanced to the hall door. The light was burning in the hall. Bending double, William tiptoed to the front door. Cora followed. At this moment they heard the quavering voice of Foster Washington Yorke singing a negro spiritual to guard and cheer him and his master on their lonely road home.
    â€œKeep clear of the door, Cora,” said William, in whom the fear born of inaction had given place to the thrill of battle. “I’ll open it and let them in quick.”
    He waited until he judged the negro and Burt were almost at the door, then he flung the door open and shouted, “Quick! Quick!”
    Washington was badly startled, but he responded immediately, and he and his load of books came hurtling into the house like rain, while William slammed the door.
    â€œFo’ de Lawd’s sake, Mis’ Cora!” gasped the negro, rolling his eyes rapidly. “What’s de mattah?”
    â€œThere’s something on the roof,” said William. “There it is again!” They clutched one another wildly. At the same instant a loud knock at the door heralded Burt. They besought him to enter quickly, and William told him the news. Cora, William supposed, was too scared to explain anything.
    â€œSomething on the roof? “said Burt. “Oh, rot!”
    Nevertheless, somewhat shaken by their obvious fears, he walked to his desk, took out a revolver and walked to the door. He had a powerful electric torch in his left hand. Cora shrieked and rushing forward, clung to his arm. Burt shook her off.
    â€œStay where you are,” he said. William and the negro had to hold Cora back, while Burt went outside the house. He returned in a moment or two.
    â€œNothing there,” he said curtly.
    â€œWell, there
was”
said Cora, weakly, sitting down.
    â€œYes,” said Burt, slowly and thoughtfully, and William noticed that he did not replace the gun in his desk, but left it lying on the blotting pad, “there has been something up there. You’d better have a couple of aspirins, Cora. There’s nothing to worry about now.” He looked at her and smiled grimly.