The Killer | Page 7

went to bed, but not to sleep. I placed my gun under my
pillow, locked and bolted the door, and arranged a string cunningly
across the open window so that an intruder--unless he had
extraordinary luck--could not have failed to kick up a devil of a clatter.
I was young, bold, without nerves; so that I think I can truthfully say I
was not in the least frightened. But I cannot deny I was nervous--or
rather the whole situation was on my nerves. I lay on my back staring
straight at the ceiling. I caught myself gripping the sheets and listening.
Only there was nothing to listen to. The night was absolutely still.
There were no frogs, no owls, no crickets even. The firm old adobe
walls gave off no creak nor snap of timbers. The world was muffled--I
almost said smothered. The psychological effect was that of blank
darkness, the black darkness of far underground, although the moon
was sailing the heavens.
How long that lasted I could not tell you. But at last the silence was
broken by the cheerful chirp of a frog. Never was sound more grateful
to the ear! I lay drinking it in as thirstily as water after a day on the
desert. It seemed that the world breathed again, was coming alive after
syncope. And then beneath that loud and cheerful singing I became
aware of duller half-heard movements; and a moment or so later yellow
lights began to flicker through the transom high at the blank wall of the
room, and to reflect in wavering patches on the ceiling. Evidently

somebody was afoot outside with a lantern.
I crept from the bed, moved the table beneath the transom, and climbed
atop. The opening was still a foot or so above my head. Being young,
strong, and active, I drew myself up by the strength of my arms so I
could look--until my muscles gave out!
I saw four men with lanterns moving here and there among some
willows that bordered what seemed to be an irrigating ditch with water.
They were armed with long clubs. Old Man Hooper, in an overcoat,
stood in a commanding position. They seemed to be searching.
Suddenly from a clump of bushes one of the men uttered an
exclamation of triumph. I saw his long club rise and fall. At that instant
my tired fingers slipped from the ledge and I had to let myself drop to
the table. When a moment later I regained my vantage point, I found
that the whole crew had disappeared.
Nothing more happened that night. At times I dozed in a broken sort of
fashion, but never actually fell into sound sleep. The nearest I came to
slumber was just at dawn. I really lost all consciousness of my
surroundings and circumstances, and was only slowly brought to
myself by the sweet singing of innumerable birds in the willows
outside the blank wall. I lay in a half stupor enjoying them. Abruptly
their music ceased. I heard the soft, flat spat of a miniature rifle. The
sound was repeated. I climbed back on my table and drew myself again
to a position of observation.
Old Man Hooper, armed with a .22 calibre rifle, was prowling along the
willows in which fluttered a small band of migratory birds. He was just
drawing bead on a robin. At the report the bird fell. The old man darted
forward with the impetuosity of a boy, although the bird was dead. An
impulse of contempt curled my lips. The old man was childish! Why
should he find pleasure in hunting such harmless creatures? and why
should he take on triumph over retrieving such petty game? But when
he reached the fallen bird he did not pick it up for a possible pot-pie as
I thought he would do. He ground it into the soft earth with the heel of
his boot, stamping on the poor thing again and again. And never have I
seen on human countenance such an expression of satisfied malignity!

I went to my door and looked out. You may be sure that the message I
had received from the unfortunate young lady had not been forgotten;
but Old Man Hooper's cynical delivery of the second paper had
rendered me too cautious to undertake anything without proper
reconnaissance. The left wing about the courtyard seemed to contain
two apartments--at least there were two doors, each with its
accompanying window. The window farthest out was heavily barred.
My thrill at this discovery was, however, slightly dashed by the further
observation that also all the other windows into the courtyard were
barred. Still, that was peculiar in itself, and not attributable--as were the
walls and remarkable transoms--to former necessities of defence. My
first thought was to