He gaped on all sides in real terror.
He, too, had heard hair-raising tales of Owd Ben.
"Go home!" hissed Furneaux, leaning out.
Then the other looked up.
"Oh, it's you, sir!" he gasped, sighing with relief.
"Man, you've had the closest shave of your life! There's a fellow below there who shoots at sight." "But I'm on duty, sir." "You'll be in Kingdom Come if you gaze in at that window.

Be off!" "I--" "Robinson, you and I will quarrel if you don't do as I bid you.

And that would be a pity, because I want to inform Mr.Fowler that he has a particularly smart man in Steynholme." "Very well, sir, if _you're_ satisfied, I _must_ be." And away went the eavesdropper, crushed, still tingling with that fear of the supernatural latent in every heart, but far from convinced.
Furneaux tripped downstairs.

The routing of Robinson had put him into a real good humor.

He found the three in the dining-room gazing spell-bound at the felt hat.
"Now, young lady, you're coming with me," he said, grinning amiably.