Part 9

The men were still laughing when the sound of a clanking chain echoed dismally from the cellar. Instantly silence fell upon the newcomers upon the first floor, followed by a--“Wotinel's that?” Two of the men had approached the staircase and started to ascend it. Slowly the uncanny clanking drew closer to the first floor. The girl on the bed turned toward Bridge.

“What is it?” she gasped.

“We don't know,” replied the man. “It followed us up here, or rather it chased us up; and then went down again just before you regained consciousness. I imagine we shall hear some interesting developments from below.”

“It's The Sky Pilot and his gang,” whispered The Oskaloosa Kid.

“It's The Oskaloosa Kid,” came a voice from below.

“But wot was that light upstairs then?” queried another.

“An' wot croaked this guy here?” asked a third. “It wasn't nothin' nice--did you get the expression on his mug an' the red foam on his lips? I tell youse there's something in this house beside human bein's. I know the joint--it's hanted--they's spooks in it. Gawd! there it is now,” as the clanking rose to the head of the cellar stairs; and those above heard a sudden rush of footsteps as the men broke for the open air--all but the two upon the stairway. They had remained too long and now, their retreat cut off, they scrambled, cursing and screaming, to the second floor.

Along the hallway they rushed to the closed door at the end--the door of the room in which the three listened breathlessly--hurling themselves against it in violent effort to gain admission.

“Who are you and what do you want?” cried Bridge.

“Let us in! Let us in!” screamed two voices. “Fer God's sake let us in. Can't you hear IT? It'll be comin' up here in a minute.”

The sound of the dragging chain could be heard at intervals upon the floor below. It seemed to the tense listeners above to pause beside the dead man as though hovering in gloating exultation above its gruesome prey and then it moved again, this time toward the stairway where they all heard it ascending with a creepy slowness which wrought more terribly upon tense nerves than would a sudden rush.

“The mills of the Gods grind slowly,” quoted Bridge.

“Oh, don't!” pleaded The Oskaloosa Kid.

“Let us in,” screamed the men without. “Fer the luv o' Mike have a heart! Don't leave us out here! IT's comin'! IT's comin'!”

“Oh, let the poor things in,” pleaded the girl on the bed. She was, herself, trembling with terror.

“No funny business, now, if I let you in,” commanded Bridge.

“On the square,” came the quick and earnest reply.

The THING had reached the head of the stairs when Bridge dragged the bed aside and drew the bolt. Instantly two figures hurled themselves into the room but turned immediately to help Bridge resecure the doorway.

Just as it had done before, when Bridge and The Oskaloosa Kid had taken refuge there with the girl, the THING moved down the hallway to the closed door. The dragging chain marked each foot of its advance. If it made other sounds they were drowned by the clanking of the links over the time roughened flooring.

Within the room the five were frozen into utter silence, and beyond the door an equal quiet prevailed for a long minute; then a great force made the door creak and a weird scratching sounded high up upon the old fashioned panelling. Bridge heard a smothered gasp from the boy beside him, followed instantly by a flash of flame and the crack of a small caliber automatic; The Oskaloosa Kid had fired through the door.

Bridge seized the boy's arm and wrenched the weapon from him. “Be careful!” he cried. “You'll hurt someone. You didn't miss the girl much that time--she's on the bed right in front of the door.”

The Oskaloosa Kid pressed closer to the man as though he sought protection from the unknown menace without. The girl sprang from the bed and crossed to the opposite side of the room. A flash of lightning illuminated the chamber for an instant and the roof of the verandah without. The girl noted the latter and the open window.

“Look!” she cried. “Suppose it went out of another window upon this porch. It could get us so easily that way!”

“Shut up, you fool!” whispered one of the two newcomers. “It might hear you.” The girl subsided into silence.

There was no sound from the hallway.

“I reckon you croaked IT,” suggested the second newcomer, hopefully; but, as though the THING without had heard and understood, the clanking of the chain recommenced at once; but now it was retreating along the hallway, and soon they heard it descending the stairs.

Sighs of relief escaped more than a single pair of lips. “IT didn't hear me,” whispered the girl.

Bridge laughed. “We're a nice lot of babies seeing things at night,” he scoffed.