through the night above the crest of the hill they hadjust topped in their descent into the ravine, or, to be more explicit,the small valley, where stood the crumbling house of Squibbs. The purrof a rapidly moving motor rose above the rain, the light rose, fell,swerved to the right and to the left.
"Someone must be in a hurry," commented Bridge.
"I suppose it is James, anxious to find you and explain his absence,"suggested The Oskaloosa Kid. They both laughed.
"Gad!" cried Bridge, as the car topped the hill and plunged downwardtoward them, "I'd hate to ride behind that fellow on a night like this,and over a dirt road at that!"
As the car swung onto the straight road before the house a flash oflightning revealed dimly the outlines of a rapidly moving touring carwith lowered top. Just as the machine came opposite the Squibbs' gate awoman's scream mingled with the report of a pistol from the tonneauand the watchers upon the verandah saw a dark bulk hurled from thecar, which sped on with undiminished speed, climbed the hill beyond anddisappeared from view.
Bridge started on a run toward the gateway, followed by the frightenedKid. In the ditch beside the road they found in a dishevelled heap thebody of a young woman. The man lifted the still form in his arms. Theyouth wondered at the great strength of the slight figure. "Let me helpyou carry her," he volunteered; but Bridge needed no assistance. "Runahead and open the door for me," he said, as he bore his burden towardthe house.
Forgetful, in the excitement of the moment, of his terror of the horrorridden ruin, The Oskaloosa Kid hastened ahead, mounted the few steps tothe verandah, crossed it and pushed open the sagging door. Behind himcame Bridge as the youth entered the dark interior. A half dozensteps he took when his foot struck against a soft and yielding mass.Stumbling, he tried to regain his equilibrium only to drop full upon thething beneath him. One open palm, extended to ease his fall, fell uponthe upturned features of a cold and clammy face. With a shriek of horrorThe Kid leaped to his feet and shrank, trembling, back.
"What is it? What's the matter?" cried Bridge, with whom The Kid hadcollided in his precipitate retreat.
"O-o-o!" groaned The Kid, shuddering. "It's dead! It's dead!"
"What's dead?" demanded Bridge.
"There's a dead man on the floor, right ahead of us," moaned The Kid.
"You'll find a flash lamp in the right hand pocket of my coat," directedBridge. "Take it and make a light."
With trembling fingers the Kid did as he was bid, and when after muchfumbling he found the button a slim shaft of white light fell downwardupon the upturned face of a man cold in death--a little man, strangelygarbed, with gold rings in his ears, and long black hair matted in thedeath sweat of his brow. His eyes were wide and, even in death, terrorfilled, his features were distorted with fear and horror. His fingers,clenched in the rigidity of death, clutched wisps of dark brown hair.There were no indications of a wound or other violence upon his body,that either the Kid or Bridge could see, except the dried remains ofbloody froth which flecked his lips.
Bridge still stood holding the quiet form of the girl in his arms, whileThe Kid, pressed close to the man's side, clutched one arm with a fierceintensity which bespoke at once the nervous terror which filled him andthe reliance he placed upon his new found friend.
To their right, in the faint light of the flash lamp, a narrow stairwaywas revealed leading to the second story. Straight ahead was a dooropening upon the blackness of a rear apartment. Beside the foot of thestairway was another door leading to the cellar steps.
Bridge nodded toward the rear room. "The stove is in there," he said."We'd better go on and make a fire. Draw your pistol--whoever did thishas probably beat it; but it's just as well to be on the safe side."
"I'm afraid," said The Oskaloosa Kid. "Let's leave this frightful place.It's just as I told you it was; just as I always heard."
"We can't leave this woman, my boy," replied Bridge. "She isn't dead.We can't leave her, and we can't take her out into the storm in hercondition. We must stay. Come! buck up. There's nothing to fear from adead man, and--"
He never finished the sentence. From the depths of the cellar came thesound of a clanking chain. Something scratched heavily upon the woodensteps. Whatever it was it was evidently ascending, while behind itclanked the heavy links of a dragged chain.
The Oskaloosa Kid cast a wide eyed glance of terror at Bridge. Hislips moved in an attempt to speak; but fear rendered him inarticulate.Slowly, ponderously the THING ascended the dark stairs from the gloomridden cellar of the deserted ruin. Even Bridge paled a trifle. The manupon the floor appeared to have met an unnatural death--the frightfulexpression frozen upon the dead face might even indicate somethingverging upon the supernatural. The sound of the THING climbing out ofthe cellar was indeed uncanny--so uncanny that Bridge discovered himselflooking about for some means of escape. His eyes fell upon the stairwayleading to the second floor.
"Quick!" he whispered. "Up the stairs! You go first; I'll follow."
The Kid needed no second invitation. With a bound he was half way upthe rickety staircase; but a glance ahead at the darkness above gavehim pause while he waited for Bridge to catch up with him. Coming moreslowly with his burden the man followed the boy, while from below theclanking of the chain warned them that the THING was already at the topof the cellar stairs.
"Flash the lamp down there," directed Bridge. "Let's have a look at it,whatever it is."
With trembling hands The Oskaloosa Kid directed the lens over theedge of the swaying and rotting bannister. His finger slipped from thelighting button plunging them all into darkness. In his frantic effortto find the button and relight the lamp the worst occurred--he fumbledthe button and the lamp slipped through his fingers, falling over thebannister to the floor below. Instantly the sound of the dragging chainceased; but the silence was even more horrible than the noise which hadpreceded it.
For a long minute the two at the head of the stairs stood in tensesilence listening for a repetition of the gruesome sounds from below.The youth was frankly terrified; he made no effort to conceal the fact;but pressed close to his companion, again clutching his arm tightly.Bridge could feel the trembling of the slight figure, the spasmodicgripping of the slender fingers and hear the quick, short, irregularbreathing. A sudden impulse to throw a protecting arm about the boyseized him--an impulse which he could not quite fathom, and one to whichhe could not respond because of the body of the girl he carried.
He bent toward the youth. "There are matches in my coat pocket," hewhispered, "--the same pocket in which you found the flash lamp. Strikeone and we'll look for a room here where we can lay the girl."
The boy fumbled gropingly in search of the matches. It was evident tothe man that it was only with the greatest exertion of will power thathe controlled his muscles at all; but at last he succeeded in findingand striking one. At the flare of the light there was a sound frombelow--a scratching sound and the creaking of boards as beneath a heavybody; then came the clanking of the chain once more, and the bannisteragainst which they leaned shook as though a hand had been laid upon itbelow them. The youth stifled a shriek and simultaneously the match wentout; but not before Bridge had seen in the momentary flare of light apartially open door at the far end of the hall in which they stood.
Beneath them the stairs creaked now and the chain thumped slowly fromone to another as it was dragged upward toward them.
"Quick!" called Bridge. "Straight down the hall and into the room atthe end." The man was puzzled. He could not have been said to have beenactually afraid, and yet the terror of the boy was so intense, so real,that it could scarce but have had its suggestive effect upon the other;and, too, there was an uncanny element of the supernatural in what theyhad seen and heard in the deserted house--the dead man on the floorbelow, the inexplicable clanking of a chain by some unseen THING fromthe depth of the cellar upward toward them; and, to heighten the effectof these, there were the grim stories of unsolved tragedy and crime. Allin all Bridge could not have denied that he
was glad of the room at theend of the hall with its suggestion of safety in the door which mightbe closed against the horrors of the hall and the Stygian gloom belowstairs.
The Oskaloosa Kid was staggering ahead of him, scarce able to hold hisbody erect upon his shaking knees--his gait seemed pitifully slow tothe unarmed man carrying the unconscious girl and listening to the chaindragging ever nearer and nearer behind; but at last they reached thedoorway and passed through it into the room.
"Close the door," directed Bridge as he crossed toward the center of theroom to lay his burden upon the floor, but there was no response tohis instructions--only a gasp and the sound of a body slumping to therotting boards. With an exclamation of
The Oakdale Affair Page 7
