At first the noises seemed faint, blurred perhaps, like an almost inaudible spattering of radio static. Then, as I adjusted my ear to them, I began to get faint squeaks, and small, sharp noises that were like far distant poppings of small firecrackers.
I looked up at the Stoddards.
"Okay," I admitted. "I hear the noises. They seem to be coming from behind the walls, if anywhere."
Stoddard looked smugly triumphant.
"I told you so," he smirked.
"But they aren't rat scrapings," I said. "I know the sounds rats make, and those aren't rat sounds."
Stoddard sat bolt upright. "What?" he demanded indignantly. "Do you mean to sit there and tell me—"
"I do," I cut in. "Ever heard rat noises?"
Stoddard looked at his wife. Both of them frowned. He looked back at me.
"No-o," he admitted slowly. "That is, not until we got these rats. Never had rats before."