Somewhere in the ruin of the mill there was a noise. It might have been the voice of an animal or of a bird, but it sounded near enough like a human being to scare all three of the young people on the doorstep.
"Sa-ay," quavered Curly. "You don't suppose there are such things as ghosts, do you, girls?"
"No, I don't!" snapped Ruth. "Don't try to scare us either, Curly."
"Honest, I'm not. I'm right here," cried the boy. "You know I never made that noise——"
"There it is again!" exclaimed Ann.
The sound was like the cry of something in distress. Ruth got up suddenly and tried to put on a brave front. "I can't sit here and listen to that," she said.
"Let's go," urged Ann. "I'm ready."
"Oh, say——" began Curly, when Ruth interrupted him by seizing the lantern.
"Don't fret, Curly Smith," she said. "We're not going without finding out what that sound means."
"Maybe it's young owls, and the old one will come back and pick our eyes out," suggested Ann.