“Here’s how the thing lines up in my mind,” began Ned, producing a slip of paper to which he referred from time to time. “First off, we get the idea of using the Coleson house and we go out there and break into it. We don’t find any sign that anybody has been around the place recently. Next we get a lease of the property and start work on it. This was on June thirtieth. On July sixth somebody writes a letter to Sam, warning him to keep away from the Coleson house.”
“Yes, and of course that meant for us to lay off as well as Sam,” declared Beals.
“Well, we didn’t heed that warning,” resumed Ned, “and next came that light that jiggered along the wall, and a few hours later Sam gets scared out of his wits and off the job by what he thinks was a ghost at his window.”
“Something was there—that’s a cinch,” interrupted Dick. “That foot track under the bushes was no dream!”
“No, it wasn’t,” replied Ned, “and neither was that painted stake, nor the repainted mark on the chimney of the house.”
“Nor that scrap of paper we found tacked to Coleson’s front door,” added Tommy.
“All of those things are down on the list of known facts,” answered Ned, “and it seems they must have some connection with each other, but from then on, the case isn’t so clear. Red and Fatty heard strange noises at the house and are certain that somebody or something was at work outside. As to what they actually saw in one flash of lightning, we’ll leave out of the question—for the present.”
“Yeah, leave it out,” muttered Tommy. “I’ll admit it ain’t scientific—but all the same I’ll never forget it!”
“Me neither!” growled Rogers. “A black, humpbacked thing half-way between the house and the woods. Something that didn’t leave any tracks!”
“Go on, Ned,” interrupted Dave Wilbur. “What comes next?”