His father had heard and was coming!
Calumet stood near the center of the room, undecided whether to make
his presence known at once or to secrete himself and allow his father
to search for him. He finally decided to stand where he was and let
his father come upon him there, and he stood erect, puffing rapidly at
the cigarette, which glowed like a firefly in the darkness.
The steps came nearer and Calumet heard a slight creak--the sound made
by the dining-room door as it swung slowly open. A faint light filled
the opening thus made in the doorway, and Calumet knew that his father
had come without a light--that the faint glow came from a distance,
possibly from the kitchen, just beyond the dining-room. The lighted
space in the doorway grew wider until it extended to the full width of
the doorway. And a man stood in it, rigid, erect, motionless.
Calumet stood in silent appreciation of the oddness of the
situation--he had come like a thief in the night--until he remembered
the cigarette in his mouth; that its light was betraying his position.
He reached up, withdrew the cigarette, and held it concealed in the
palm of his hand.
But he was the fraction of a second too late. His father had seen the
light; was aware of his presence. Calumet saw a pistol glitter in his
hand, heard his voice, a little hoarse, possibly from fear, give the
faltering command:
"Hands up!"
Until now, Calumet had been filled with a savage enjoyment of the
possibilities.
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