A MIDNIGHT ATTACK.
Oliver and his guardian retired about ten o'clock. Mr. Bundy was not
long in going to sleep. Unlike Oliver, he had no care or anxiety on his
mind. As we have said, he was not a man to harbor suspicion.
With our hero it was different. He knew the real character of Denton,
and could not help fancying that he must have some personal object in
bringing them to this house, and installing them in a room adjoining
his own.
Oliver carefully locked the door, leaving the key in the lock. There
was but one door, and this led into the hall.
"Now," thought our hero, "Denton can't get in except through the
keyhole."
This ought to have quieted him for the night, but it did not. An
indefinable suspicion, which he could not explain, made him uneasy. It
was this, probably, that prompted him to go to the closet in which he
knew that Nicholas Bundy kept a pistol. At times he placed the pistol
under his pillow, but he had not done so to-night, considering it quite
unnecessary in a quiet boarding-house.
"I don't suppose there's any need of it," thought Oliver; "but I'll
take it and put it under my own pillow."
Nicholas Bundy was already asleep. He was a sound sleeper and did
not observe what Oliver was doing, otherwise he would have asked an
explanation.
This might have been hard to give, except the chance knowledge he had
gained of Denton's character.
An hour passed and still Oliver remained awake. At about this time he
heard a noise in the adjoining room as of someone moving about.
"It is Denton come home," he said to himself.
Presently the noise ceased, and Oliver concluded that his disreputable
neighbor had gone to bed.
He began to be rather ashamed of his suspicions.
"Of course he can't get in here, since there is but one door, and that
locked," he reflected. "It is foolish for me to lie awake all night. I
may as well imitate Mr. Bundy's example and go to sleep."
Oliver was himself fatigued, having been about the streets all day, and
now that his anxiety was relieved he, too, soon fell into a slumber.
But his sleep was neither deep nor refreshing; it was troubled by
dreams, or rather by one dream, in which Denton figured.
It was this, perhaps, that broke the bonds of sleep. At any rate, he
found himself almost in an instant broad awake, with his eyes resting
on a figure, clearly seen in the moonlight, standing beside Nicholas
Bundy's bed examining the pockets of his coat and pantaloons, which
rested on a chair close beside.
Immediately all his senses were on the alert. In one swift glance he
saw all. The figure was that of Denton, and an opening in the panel
between the two rooms showed how he had got in. It was clear that this
was a decoy house, especially intended to admit of such nefarious deeds.
Denton's back was turned to Oliver, and he was quite unaware,
therefore, that the boy had awakened. Bundy lay before him in profound
sleep, and from a careless glance he had concluded that the boy also
was asleep.
"Now," thought Oliver, "what shall I do? Shall I shoot at once?"
This course was repugnant to him. He had a horror of shedding blood
unless it were absolutely necessary, but at the same time he was bold
and resolute, and by no means willing to lie quietly and see his
guardian robbed.
It was certainly a critical moment, and required some courage to face
and defy a midnight robber, who might himself be armed. But Oliver was
plucky, and didn't shrink.
In a clear, distinct voice he asked:
"What are you doing there?"
Denton wheeled round and saw Oliver sitting up in bed. He had a black
mask over his eyes, and thought he was not recognized.
"Confusion!" Oliver heard him mutter, under his breath. "Cover up your
head, boy, and don't interfere with me, or I'll murder you!" he said in
a low, stern voice.
"I want to know what you are doing?" demanded our hero, undaunted.
"None of your business. Do as I tell you!" answered Denton, in a
menacing tone.
"It is my business," said Oliver firmly. "You have no business here,
Mr. Denton. Go back into your own room."
Denton started, and was visibly annoyed to find that he was recognized
after all.
"Denton is not my name," he said. "You mistake me for somebody else."
"Denton is the name by which we know you," said Oliver. "Whether it is
your real name or not I don't know or care. I know you have no business
here, and you must leave instantly."
Denton laughed, a low, mocking laugh.
"You crow well, my young bantam," he said; "but you're a fool, or you
would know that I am not a man to be trifled with. Cover up your head,
and in five minutes you may uncover it again, and I will do you no
harm."
"No, but you'll rob Mr. Bundy, and I don't intend you shall do it."
"You don't!" exclaimed the ruffian, in a tone of suppressed passion.
"Come, I must teach you a lesson!"
He sprang toward Oliver's bed, with the evident intention of doing him
an injury, but our hero was prompt and prepared for the attack which
he anticipated. He seized the pistol and presented it full at the
approaching burglar, and said coolly:
"Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Denton. This pistol is loaded, and if you
touch me I will shoot."
Denton stopped short, with a feeling bordering on dismay. It was a
resistance he had not anticipated. Indeed, he was so far from expecting
any interference with his designs that he had come unprovided with any
weapon himself.
"The boy's fooling me!" it occurred to him. "I don't believe the
pistol is loaded. I'll find out. You must be a fool to think I am
afraid of an empty pistol," he said, looking searchingly at the boy's
face.
"You will find out whether it is loaded or not," said Oliver coolly;
"but I wouldn't advise you to try. Just go through the same door you
came in at, and I won't shoot."
If it had been a man, Denton would have seen that there was no further
chance for him to carry out his design; but it angered him to give in
to a boy. He felt that it was disgraceful to a man, whose strength
could outmatch Oliver twice over. Besides, he had felt Bundy's
pocket-book, and he hated to leave the room without it.
"I'll bribe the boy," he thought. "Look here, boy," said he; "put down
that weapon of yours. I want to speak to you."
"Go ahead!" said Oliver.
"You haven't laid down your pistol."
"And I don't intend to," said Oliver firmly. "I am not in the habit of
entertaining company in my chamber at midnight, and I prefer to be on
my guard."
Denton was enraged at the boy's coolness, but he dissembled the feeling.
"Oh, well," he said carelessly, "do as you please. Now, I've got a
proposal to make to you."
"Go ahead."
"I'm very hard up, and I want money."
"So I supposed."
"The man you're with has plenty of it."
"How do you know?"
"Confound you, why do you interrupt me? You know it as well as I. Now,
I want some of that money."
"That is what you came in for."
"Yes, that is what I came in for. Now, I'll tell you what I will do.
I will take the money out of the pocketbook, and give you half, if
you won't interfere. You can tell the old man that a burglar took the
whole, and he'll believe you fast enough. So you see you will profit by
it as well as I."
"You don't know me, Mr. Denton," said Oliver. "I am not a thief, and if
I were I wouldn't rob the man that has been kind to me. I've heard all
I want to, and you have stayed in this room long enough. If you don't
disappear through that panel before I count three, I'll shoot you."
With a muttered execration, Denton obeyed, and once more Oliver found
himself alone. He got up and looked at his watch. It indicated a
quarter to one. What should he do? The night was less than half-spent,
and Denton might attempt another entrance.
"There is no help for it," thought Oliver. "I must remain awake the
rest of the night."