The girls and Miss Jenny Ann frowned thoughtfully. Somehow Phil's idea did not seem to be very pleasing.
It was just such a night as the one on which the pretty houseboat had been cut adrift. The room was still, except for the crackling of the fire. The noises were all on the outside. The owls hooted dismally in the near-by trees. Farther off in the forest sounded the screech of a wildcat. The rain poured down.
A sudden, violent knocking began on the front door of the lodge. It was uncanny—terrifying. Not a single time since the houseboat party came to the lodge in the woods had a hand knocked at their door. To-night, in the heart of a storm, the sound of the blows upon the door filled them with dread.
Miss Jenny Ann rose with shaking knees. Instead of opening the door she quietly pushed her chair against it. It was a feeble barrier. The door was closed only by a wooden latch, which Phil had made.
The banging continued. "Who's there?" Miss Jenny Ann demanded.
There was no reply. Phil came over and stood by her chaperon's side.
"Tell us who it is at the door and we will open to you. We can not open to a stranger," she declared.
Still the stupid beating on the door with no response to the questioning.
Phyllis stood close to the door. "Come here, Madge," she whispered. "Now listen." The two girls were quiet as mice. One nodded to the other. They had each heard a curious guttural sound outside their lodge door.
"It's the deaf and dumb boy, Miss Jenny Ann. Shall we let him come in?" asked Madge.