Without the wind was blowing in sudden gusts, rattling the sashes in the windows. At intervals a pale light shone through the panes for an instant, and a few seconds after came the distant rumble of thunder.
“Just as I thought,” reflected John. “The storm’s coming this way—coming fast!”
He was suddenly aware of a peculiar sound of something grinding and straining, which terminated in a hollow thud. Instantly he became alert, straining his ears for a repetition of the noise. It came again, in a strange creaking, as if someone were trying to pry open a shutter. Then he thought he could hear a step on the back porch. John was sure, this time, that the moment for action had come. But he hesitated, thinking quickly. The sound was at the back of the house.
He put his hand upon the revolver in his hip pocket. Should he awaken the others, or go alone? He must act quickly. If he went prowling about by himself, the others might hear him, and become alarmed; they might even mistake him for an intruder, and fire at him.
While he stood there considering, the noise occurred again; there was a movement at his feet, and he looked and saw Jack’s head raised in a listening attitude. Then Jack turned to look at the place where John had been lying, and beheld him standing over him, and he sat up quickly.
“I heard something!” he whispered.
John nodded his head.
“Let’s wake the others,” he said, stooping down and putting his mouth close to Jack’s ear. “Then let’s you and me investigate. It’s around back—sounds as if somebody’s trying to jimmy a shutter as quietly as possible. We’ll go out the front and surprise them from the rear.”
“How shall we wake the others without making a noise?” asked Jack.
“Put your hand over their mouths and say ‘Sh!’ as soon as they move.”