"I'm positive it's in this house. It's down-stairs. There! Hear it?"
He nodded.
"Maybe Aunt Caroline and the rest of 'em have come home again," he suggested.
"No; it's a man's voice, but it's a strange one. It's—burglars!"
"It might be, of course," he assented.
"Let's telephone for the police. Hurry!"
"No. Let's investigate first. We can telephone afterward."
He stepped softly out into the hall and started toward the front of the house. Mary seized his arm.
"Isn't there a pistol—or something—that we could take?" she whispered, nervously.
"Don't believe there's a gun in the house. Bill doesn't own one—except a shotgun."