Sim was sitting up now, and the three girls were as quiet as statues in the eerie moonlight streaming in the open window.
“There it is again! Did you hear it? Just a tiny squeak,” Terry asked.
“It seems to be coming from the dining room. Had we better call your mother?” Arden asked in a low voice.
They listened again, with hearts pounding and eyes questioning. What could it be? Or rather who could it be? Down at Oceanedge it was customary not to lock doors, and windows were usually left wide open. But Mrs. Landry, being city-bred, could never get out of the habit of locking up for the night. Whoever it was, seemed deliberately trying to force up a window, and it sounded as if the hands were slipping on the glass.
“Can you light the downstairs lights from up here, Terry?” asked Arden. “Don’t you think it would be a good idea to show them we’re awake?”
“Yes, of course, Arden,” Terry quickly replied. “I should have thought of that before. I’ll turn on the hall lights downstairs and give them an alarm!”
She slipped softly out into the hall and pushed a button. With a little snap the lights flashed on. Then silently the alarmists waited with apprehension. What should the next move be?
The sound was not heard again, and the girls in Sim’s room breathed a little easier.
“Do you think—they’re gone?” Sim whispered.
“I don’t hear anything; do you?” Arden asked.