“I guess they won’t be along till after midnight,” remarked Marjorie, lightly. “Well, come on in—we want you people to go home and get some sleep. Ethel is yawning her head off!”
“Yes, I haven’t heard her say a word since we’ve been on the porch,” put in Mrs. Hadley, anxious to play her part in the little comedy, which she bravely hoped would not turn out to be a tragedy.
Marjorie unlocked the door and they entered and turned on the lights. They found everything as usual, just as the boys had left it upon locking up for the evening.
“If only you had a telephone!” sighed Mrs. Hadley. “It would make matters so much easier.”
“Yes,” agreed Marjorie; “but you know the company offered so many objections that we decided not to bother just for the summer. But do you know, I often think that if we had one right here, we might never have had all this opposition!”
“Unless the house really is haunted,” remarked Mrs. Hadley.
The suggestion of a telephone, however, was a new one to John, and he resolved to make use of it immediately. On his way past the house next door, as he drove his mother home that night, he stopped and explained what was going on at the tea-house, and told where he and Dick expected to hide.
“And if somebody—probably a girl—comes over to use your telephone to get the police, will you let her in?”
“Certainly,” replied the neighbor, courteously.
In the meantime Marjorie and Jack went up to their cots without the slightest idea of going to sleep. Both were much too excited to consider such a thing; Marjorie’s nap had entirely refreshed her, and Jack’s weariness was merely feigned.