"Help!
Help! There's some one in the house! Billy, help!"
I felt an arm grasp me tightly, and for a moment a chill ran over
me at being caught in the nefarious work of breaking and entering
a dwelling-house at night. But it was only Kennedy, who had already
tucked the precious little tin box under his arm.
With a leap he dragged me to the open window, cleared it, vaulted
over the porch, and we were running for the clump of woods that
adjoined the estate on one side. Lights flashed in all the windows
of the house at once. There must have been some sort of
electric-light system that could be lighted instantly as a
"burglar-expeller." Anyhow, we had made good our escape.
As we lost ourselves in the woods I gave a last glance back and saw
a lantern carried from the house to the garage. As the door was
unlocked I could see, in the moonlight, a huge dog leap out and lick
the hands and face of a man.
Quickly we now crashed through the frozen underbrush. Evidently
Kennedy was making for the station by a direct route across country
instead of the circuitous way by the road and town. Behind us we
could hear a deep baying.
"By the Lord, Walter," cried Kennedy, for once in his life
thoroughly alarmed, "it's a bloodhound, and our trail is fresh.
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