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Updated: May 25, 2025
The Venetian-screened windows across the room faced east. In the flicker of the lighter, Melroy made his way around to them and drew open the slats of one, looking out. Except for the headlights of cars, far down in the street, and the lights of ships in the harbor, the city was completely blacked out.
Bowers had seen rage before, but the peculiar fiendishness of the man's expression, not knowing himself observed, fascinated him. The lamb had backed off for another run when the stranger jumped for it. Bowers called sharply: "Don't tech that little sheep, pardner!" The answer was snarled through white teeth: "I'm goin' to kick its slats in! I'm goin' to break every bone in its body."
Paul had not, to be sure, been used to very superior accommodations, and if the bed had not been quite so hard, he would have got along very well. As it was he was separated from slats only by a thin straw bed which did not improve matters much. It was therefore with a sense of weariness which slumber had not dissipated, that Paul arose at the summons of Mr. Mudge.
I heard her close the blinds on the side that looked off toward the barn, and, glancing up, saw that she had turned down the slats tightly. I think it must have been well on toward four in the afternoon when the white sunbonnet at last disappeared through the gap in the hedge. The Skeptic came back up the garden path at the pace of an escaping convict, and went tearing up the stairs to his room.
Gannett rose also; but some undefinable instinct made his movements as cautious as hers. He stole to his window and looked out through the slats of the shutter. It had rained in the night and the dawn was gray and lifeless. The cloud- muffled hills across the lake were reflected in its surface as in a tarnished mirror.
Jane, waiting in the meantime alone in the dull, whitewashed office, had ample opportunity to study every nail in its floor, count the slats in the slippery, varnished chairs, and speculate as to the identity of the spectacled dignitaries whose portraits adorned the walls.
Up-stairs, in the large front room, sat her mother and her aunt, busy with their sewing. The blinds were closed, to keep out the warm sun of a sultry July day, and only an occasional breath of air found its way in between their tightly turned slats. The whir of the locust outside, and the regular creak, creak of Aunt Jane's tall rocking-chair were the only sounds to break the stillness.
"Don't you know what that is?" queried the professor, noting Colin's puzzled look. "No, sir." "That's a live car. The barrels at each end have enough water in them to sink them to a certain depth. Then the slats, as you see, are nailed two-thirds of the way around the barrels, leaving just enough space for the water to flow in and out freely. They put the fish in that to tow them home alive.
The vane on one side of the shaft is quite broad and flexible, while that on the other side is narrow and stiff; and by looking at a wing with the feathers in their places, you will find that they are placed so that they overlap a little, like the slats on a window-blind.
It's full of bugs and ants and spiders and dust and passé corncobs and it's architecturally incorrect, but if you and the marshal will hike off somewhere else and brag about his badge, I'll buy it. I've got to sleep." Speechless, Silas stared through the slats and continued to stare until his stupefied face became a source of irritation. Kenny lost his temper. He raised his voice.
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