“No, no, no!” wailed Laura. “I heard him: he gave a kind of dreadful grunt.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure? He wriggled—oh! I could feel him!”
Cora seized a box of matches again. “I’m going to find out.” “Oh, no, no!” protested Laura, cowering.
“Yes, I am. If there’s a burglar in the house I’m going to find him!”
“We mustn’t wake papa.”
“No, nor mamma either. You stay here if you want to——”
“Let’s call Hedrick,” suggested the pallid Laura; “or put our heads out of the window and scream for——”
Cora laughed; she was not in the least frightened. “That wouldn’t wake papa, of course! If we had a telephone I’d send for the police; but we haven’t. I’m going to see if there’s any one there. A burglar’s a man, I guess, and I can’t imagine myself being afraid of any man!”
Laura clung to her, but Cora shook her off and went through the hall undaunted, Laura faltering behind her. Cora lighted matches with a perfectly steady hand; she hesitated on the threshold of Laura’s room no more than a moment, then lit the lamp.