Into the hall he slipped, with the velvet tread of the panther. Never mind if one of his shoes did squeak a little, it was just the same, “the velvet tread of the panther.” Great detectives always walked that way in a place like this.
Still the silence of the place was unbroken. He wondered greatly at it, and he longed to call to Frank Merriwell. This inclination to shout, however, he knew was very unprofessional, and he sternly repressed it.
From room to room he went with the same cautious tread, peering into first one and then another. Apparently all were empty save of the battered old furniture. There seemed to be no woman about the place. Plainly Ben Shannon was not partial toward women.
The lower part of the house was explored. There was no cellar. Even Old Ferret, for all of his wonderful nerve, might have hesitated in the teeth of a dark cellar that abounded with rats.
There being no cellar, it was necessary for him to proceed to the upper story of the house. The stairs complained and tried to shout a warning, and it must be that their vociferousness caused him to pause several times in the ascent.
But at last the top was reached, and then, as he halted there to survey his surroundings, he distinctly heard a sound that made him crouch with every nerve strained and every separate hair threatening to kick his hat off.
A strange and awesome sound it was, coming from whence he could not tell. A shuddering, nerve-trying sound, like the growl of some fierce wild beast preparing to leap upon its prey.
What could it be? Was it possible the outlaw was guarded by tame lions? Even that thought was not enough to break the iron nerve of Old Ferret, although it must be confessed that it gave his nerve a mighty wrench.
The tenseness went out of the great detective’s body, his hair permitted his old hat to settle back upon his head, and he straightened up with a deep sigh of relief.
“Well,” he said, “this seems to be about the sleepiest place I ever struck. Everybody is taking a snooze. That’s first-class! I like it.”
But even then, knowing some one was near, it was some time before he could summon his strength to go on. He saw an open door, and, still with his professional panther-tread, he slipped up to it.