“What in the world is that?” cried Phyllis, in a panic. “It’s the most uncanny sound I ever heard!” They listened again and caught the intonation of a long moan, ending in a rising note like a wail. It was truly a little hair-raising in the closed, forsaken spot.
Suddenly Leslie giggled. “Oh, it’s only Rags! He’s missed me at last, traced me here, and is probably sitting by that side door now, protesting against having been deserted!”
Phyllis was both relieved at the explanation and annoyed at the interruption. “Let’s go and stop him right away, or he’ll have all the neighborhood here!”
They hurried to the little side door in the pantry and snapped off their light. Rags, from the outside, sniffing at the threshold, sensed their approach and yapped joyously.
“But how are you going to lock that door after you?” whispered Leslie, in sudden terror. “It isn’t possible!”
“Trust me!” smiled the capable Phyllis. “Do you suppose I’d have unfastened it if I couldn’t fasten it up again? I just keep the hook in a certain position with my knife, as I close the door, and then gently drop it into the ring through the crack. I’ve done it a dozen times. Leroy Danforth taught us how.”
Leslie breathed a sigh of relief, and Phyllis cautiously opened the door.
Then both girls started back in genuine dismay!
Sitting cross-legged in the sand, directly in front of the door and holding back the delighted Rags by his collar, was—of all people most unwelcome to Phyllis—her grinning brother Ted!
The consternation of the guilty pair was almost ludicrous, at least Ted found it so. Then Phyllis recovered her self-possession and demanded: