Suddenly Mr. Daddles held up his hand,—
"Sh-h-h-h-h!"
We stopped everything and listened. For a minute or two we had quite forgotten that we were midnight burglars, and we were going on as if we were right at home.
"Sh-h-h-h-h-h-h!" said Mr. Daddles again, "don't you hear something?"
We all did hear something that very instant. No one could help hearing it. It was the strangest sound,—as much like the sawing of wood as anything I can think of. Except that toward the end of the stroke it seemed to run into some tough knots in the wood, for it made two or three funny, little noises, like "yop, yop, yop." Then it stopped for a second or two, and then there was another long stroke, with "yop, yop" on the end.
"Do you s'pose it's another cow?" whispered Jimmy.
Mr. Daddles shook his head, and held up his hand again for silence. The noise continued with perfect regularity for half a minute,—then it stopped altogether.
"It's in the wall," I suggested, pointing. "P'r'aps it's a mouse gnawing."
"It's more like a buffalo gnawing," said Ed Mason.
"Sh-h-h-h-h-h!" said Mr. Daddles, "we ought to have looked about the house a little before we began to eat. I think that's only the branch of a tree, or something like that, scraping against the house outside. Anyhow, we'd better investigate."