There was no mistaking the fact that some one
was trying to enter by the door which yielded slightly to the
pressure and the chair which had been placed by Fred to protect
them had been moved back a few inches from its place.
"Who's there? Who's there?" demanded Fred sharply.
No reply was given to his question although the door slowly was
closed again and the sound of the footsteps of some one moving
down the hall was plainly heard.
"What do you suppose that was?" demanded Fred in a whisper.
"Somebody was trying to break in," replied John.
"What do you suppose he wanted?"
"He wanted to get in."
"What for?"
"I don't know. You'll have to ask him, I guess," replied John
drowsily for by this time he had resumed his place on the pillow.
"I think he wanted our money," suggested Fred.
"He didn't want much then. Maybe he wanted our money and our
lives."
"All the same I'm scared. I don't like this place. I don't know
why we stopped here. It must be past one o'clock now and yet hear
those men yell down there in the bar-room. I'm going to see what
time it is."
Fred climbed out of bed and striking a match looked at his watch.
"It's quarter past one," he said, but the sound which came from
John did not indicate that he was specially interested in the
report of the watch.
Fred looked out of the window and saw that the storm long since
had passed.
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