“He’s gone to Albany. And the crazy woman is harmless. But you’re wise about Silky: he will protect us from any tramps that might show up.”
To Mary Louise’s delight, Mrs. Gay raised no objection to the plan. After all, her daughter had often slept outdoors before. So, after a pleasant evening of games and dancing at the Reeds’ cottage, the two girls went out to the tent.
“You forgot your pajamas, Mary Louise!” called Mrs. Gay as she fixed up the girls’ room for Freckles.
“Oh, of course,” replied her daughter. No need to alarm her mother by telling her that they intended to sleep in their clothing.
They took off their shoes, changed into sweaters and skirts, and climbed into the cot. Silky lay down on the rug beside it.
“It is close quarters,” whispered Jane. “But nothing like that could keep me awake.”
“Me either,” returned Mary Louise, with a yawn.
Five minutes later they were both sound asleep, entirely forgetful of fires or danger. But their rest was short. About one o’clock Mary Louise was awakened by a soft growl from Silky. Instantly she sat up and peered out into the darkness. It was utterly black at the opening of the tent, for the night was starless, and the trees closed out all view of the sky. Yet she perceived something light—something white—coming towards her. For one wild moment a terrible thought took possession of her imagination: Was this indeed the angel of wrath, coming to destroy their house—as that queer woman had predicted?
But, no: common sense came to her rescue and assured Mary Louise things like that didn’t happen nowadays. There must be some other explanation. It must be——
A horrible inane laugh burst upon the silence of the night, wakening Jane with a cry of terror on her lips. A long arm reached through the opening of the tent, touching the girls’ cot, snatching at their feet. Then another laugh, followed by hysterical sobbing.