“Maybe Mrs. Tucker could supply one,” suggested Arden.
“I wouldn’t ask her.”
“No, I don’t believe it would be wise. But isn’t it queer of her to go off visiting, and then return and go sit out in an old smokehouse?”
“Very queer,” agreed Sim.
Carrying their “mistletoe,” the girls went back to their parked car. As they were passing the Hall, they noticed the front door was closed as they had left it. There were no footprints in the snow other than those they themselves had made.
“Hark!” suddenly exclaimed Arden as they were at the edge of the sagging old front porch.
“What?” asked Sim.
“Didn’t you hear a noise?”
“Where?”
They stood still and listened.