“We’ll use that, and then they’ll be discoverin’ the disappearance of the d-d-dog. If other things has happened that’ll bother ’em some. Maybe, too, we kin fix it so they’ll see Sammy’s footprint. Oh, I guess we kin s-s-scare ’em, all right.”
I began to think so, too.
“Let’s commence,” I says.
“You go around into the orchard and whang at the bell. Sammy and I’ll stay on the east side and see what we kin do. When I give the whistle make for the boat.”
I made for the orchard and crouched down in a fence corner where I could get a good sight at the bell. I’d filled my pockets chock full of the best stones I could find, nice round fellows about the size of marbles, and there were new rubbers on my sling-shot. I hadn’t taken any chances. When I was all settled I got to my knees and let her fly. The first time I missed, but the second time the old bell went glang. I scrouged down out of sight and waited. In a minute old Mr. Willis stuck his head out of the door, his eyes bulging, and looked all over. He stood there quite awhile, sort of undecided. Then he turned his back, and at that I shot again. Glang went the bell, and he jumped a foot. When he landed he was turned all the way around.
“Hey! Mr. Batten! Mr. Batten!” he yelled.
Batten came running to the door to know what was the matter. Willis was excited and talked loud, so I could hear every word he said. He started in by telling how the bell rang the other day with nobody to ring it, and how the dog had yelped, and how something had slammed the door when he went in. “It ain’t nat’ral,” he squeaked. “I dunno what’s doin’ it, but it ain’t the hand of man. No, siree! And here she’s just rung twice right under my nose.”
“JUST RUNG TWICE RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE”
“Bosh!” says Batten. “You’re nervous and dreaming.”