A luminous afternoon in the black-and-white forest. The monster, played by Boris Karloff, pauses as he hears the sweet notes of a violin. His face lights, he lumbers through the woods, following the sound. He comes to a cosy cottage amid the trees, very gingerbread. Inside, the violin is being played by a blind hermit, who is being played by O. P. Heggie. The monster approaches, and pounds on the door.
Someone pounded on the door.
“Eee!” Murch’s Mom said, and jumped straight up out of her folding chair. Which folded, and fell over with a slap.
They had all been sitting around the battery-operated small television set they’d brought out to follow the kidnapping news. There’s been no kidnapping news—apparently the cops were keeping a news blackout on—so now they were watching the late movie. The three kerosene lamps, the hibachi in the fireplace, and the flickering television screen, all gave some light and less heat.
Someone pounded at the door again. On the TV screen, the blind hermit opened his door to the monster. The others had all scrambled to their feet too by now, though without knocking over their chairs. Harshly Kelp whispered, “What do we do?”
“They know we’re here,” Dortmunder said. “Let me do the talking.” He glanced upstairs, and said, “May, if the kid acts up, say something about him having nightmares and go up there and keep him quiet.”
May nodded. The pounding sounded at the door for a third time. Murch’s Mom said, “I’ll go.”
They all waited. Dortmunder’s hand was near the pocket with his revolver. Murch’s Mom opened the door and said, “Well, for God—”
And the kid walked in.
“Holy Toledo!” Murch said.
Kelp, slapping his hands to his face, yelled, “Masks!" “Masks! Don’t let him see your faces!”
Dortmunder didn’t believe it. He stared at the kid, looking as wet and muddy and ragged as a drowned kitten, and then he looked upstairs. And then he ran upstairs. He didn’t know what he thought, maybe that the kid was twins or something, but he just didn’t believe he wasn’t in that room.
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