"you
will hear me call instructions, should I do so. We may be gone for some
time."

In silent wonder the three in the car obeyed the order so gently given,
but so imperatively attuned. Without misgiving, but trembling from the
multitude of questions rushing to his mind, Way followed Mr. Rack.
Walking upright, but without noise, the two approached the dark and
lonely farmhouse.

Stationing Way behind the trunk of an old apple tree, Mr. Rack left him.
For a quarter of an hour he was absent. Vastly to Phil's surprise he
came creeping on hands and knees and was fairly beside the boy ere the
latter discovered him.

"We are too late, or too early. It will take some time----"

A terrific scream burst suddenly on the air. Coming in unexpected
violence, and from within the old house, the sound was terrifying beyond
description.

"Don't forget the signal!" said Robert Rack calmly.

"Close in," Phil whispered, to show he remembered, but the detective was
gone.

The seconds seemed like hours to Philip Way and no less so to the three
in the car who had heard the frightful scream.

Suddenly there came a wild cry, like violent, threatening anger, like
the howl of a wolf at bay. And then----

"Close in!" It was the voice of Bob Rack, and what a contrast with the
other! It might have been a father calling a son to breakfast, so cool,
collected, calm it was.

Instantly Way rushed forward through the dark. _Close in!_ Yes, but
where? How? Soon he found himself groping for the door at the side
porch. A feeble light shone from the kitchen. With a crash the door was
suddenly flung open. A heavy figure leaped forth. Phil threw himself
forward, arms outstretched, just as many a time he had tackled on the
gridiron, and the heavy body went tumbling to the ground beside the
doorstep, Way with it, but keeping the uppermost position.

"Nicely done, Philip, nicely!" No disturbed note, no ruffled sound, no
excitement whatever,--just Bob Rack saying a word or two in his calm and
tranquil way, both then and an instant later: "Sit up, Adam! Let him
rise, Phil. I think we were here just in good season. You see how Mr.
Peek is, Phil,--back there in the front room. You'll find another lamp
in the kitchen, no doubt."

Nothing surprised Phil more, perhaps, than the effect of the detective's
low and even tones upon himself. Though panting for breath, after the
recent struggle and his exertion, he noticed that he experienced no
sense of fear