Skippy was destined to remember that night. Whether it was the chillgloom of the house or the nameless dread which seemed to hang like apall over the wilderness hideout, he did not know. Certainly,everything they said and did gave them a feeling of unreality, as ifthey were merely moving puppets in a play. He missed his father, as henever had before, and that was saying much.
After their peculiar meeting with Timmy Brogan (as they afterwardlearned was his full name), Barker gravely invited them to the kitchenfor refreshment. They followed Frost through two unfurnished rooms,wading through the dirt and dark until they emerged into a sprawlingroom running the width of the house and which, like the sitting room,was illuminated by means of a lantern dangling from a hook in the highceiling.
A small oil stove, battered and rusty, was trying to send up a yellowflame strong enough to boil the coffee. Another stove, a wood-burner,stood back in the opposite corner as if it were trying to hide itsantiquity from the boys' eyes. A sprawling cupboard stood in anothercorner and in the center of the room, surrounded by broken down chairsand boxes, was a dilapidated table holding several plates offreshly-made sandwiches.
"Sit down, boys," Barker said simply. "The coffee will be ready in aminute."
"Seems like I ain't fed in a million minutes!" Timmy said with bittercomplaint. "Since you left me that lousy sandwich when you beat it atdawn, I...."
"_Shut up!_"
Barker's funereal voice filled the room for a tense second, then heturned on his heel and walked toward the cupboard in long, determinedstrides. Timmy grew pale and sat down on the nearest box, reachinghungrily for a sandwich.
Frost chuckled mirthlessly for no reason at all that Skippy could see.Barker took out several thick cups with which he strode back toward thestove and poured the coffee when it was ready. After that they ate, anda strange, silent repast it was with the lantern sending eerie shadowsup on the smoke-blackened ceiling and leaving the little group in asemi-gloom about the table.
Skippy ate because he was hungry, but his mind wasn't on it. He was tooconfused, too worried at the unexpected turn of events to think ofanything else but what had happened and what might happen. Barker madehim feel strangely hopeless about this adventure which he had set outupon so light heartedly and which Carlton Conne had seemed to plan sothoroughly. It now appeared that he who had planned on helping to trapDean Devlin had himself been trapped in a larger web.
That was it--he was _trapped_!
He looked at the two kitchen windows. They were shuttered and barredlike the windows in the other rooms. The door leading out of thekitchen opened onto a shed and Skippy was certain that that too wasinvulnerable both inside and out. Upstairs, he learned ten minuteslater, were three stuffy bedrooms fit for occupation. He was assignedto one of them along with Nickie Fallon and Timmy. Shorty and Biffoccupied the room next to them and across the hall was the room inwhich Barker and Frost alternately slept and watched to see that theiryoung proteges did not triumph over locks and other man-madeobstructions and steal forth into the night.
"Ever since I been here, I been askin' myself--why the locks, if themtwo guys brought me here outa sympathy?" Timmy whispered to his newroom-mates as Frost bade them a chuckling good-night and locked thedoor on the outside. He retreated to his tumbled looking cot and heldhis head in his hands wearily while he stared at the lantern hangingabove his head. "Take it from me, guys, there's somethin' screwy aboutBarker an' Frost, an' you might's well get smarted up."
Skippy looked at the decrepit bed in which he and Nickie were to sleepand his heart sank. There wasn't a breath of air save the occasionalwisps of breeze that mysteriously found their way through the chinks inthe shutters. He walked to the window and by stooping could lookthrough the bars and see a rising moon casting a flickering gleam oflight on water.
"Is it a lake or somethin'?" he asked.
"Lake, me eye!" Timmy answered. "It's a swamp, that's what. You'll seehow much when the moon comes up good. There's only a little back yardan' then the swamp begins."
"Say," Nickie whispered inquiringly, "you got somepin' on Barker an'Frost? What's the matter, anyways?"
Timmy got up and walked over to Fallon. "They got me scared, that'swhat! Barker's terrible--he's got me scared skinny an' I'll tell youguys why!" He tiptoed to the door, listened a moment and then cameback. "Did _he_ help you guys crash outa reform?"
Nickie explained that they had not got that far before Barker hadreached out a helping hand and gathered them in. While he was speakingthey all moved toward the bed and sat down, there being no chairs inthe room.
"So he kinda switched the deck with you guys for a change, hah?" Timmycommented after Fallon finished. "That proves what I say about himbein' a pretty foxy guy, turnin' a trick that maybe ain't gonna be sohealthy for us in the end."
"How come?" Skippy asked softly.
"It's a long story, an' if you guys ain't sleepy..." Timmy began.
"Say, lissen," Nickie interposed, "the kid'n me don't mind bein' puthip. I didn't like the way Barker bore down on you downstairs an' itgive me the hunch mebbe he's too phoney even for us--see! So comeacross an' mebbe we won't get the short enda the stick."
"Sure I'll spiel, but that's all the good it'll do," Timmy saiddismally. "We'll never get nowheres together, take it from me--Barkerain't lettin' us! He'll take us away from here, one by one, and so farthe two guys that have gone from here ... anyways, I'll tell you what Ithink--Barker's a _killer_!"
"_What?_" Skippy gulped.
They heard the scraping of a lock and suddenly the door swung open. Abreeze from the hall blew out the feeble lantern light and they were intotal darkness.