“Anybody here?” he called out.
Nobody answered, and each of the cadets caught the other by the arm.
“I—I guess the door just blew open,” stammered Andy. The situation was so unusual he knew not what to say. Here they were in a strange house with nobody to speak to them.
The boys could not see a thing, saving when the lightning outside lit up the scene. They felt their way through the hallway to a door and entered what appeared to be a parlor. The apartment had a musty smell, as if it had not been opened for a long time. The blinds were closed but the slats were open and through these faint light showed.
“Looks to me as if this house was deserted, too,” remarked Pepper. “Gracious, the whole neighborhood must be moving out!”
“Somebody lives here, I am sure of that,” answered his chum. “Out in the hall I smelt the odor of fried onions.”
“Let us walk back to the kitchen and find out,” said Pepper.
A flash of lightning made the boys pause for a moment. Then they walked to the end of the hallway and entered a dining room. Here a window was open and through this the rain was sweeping wildly.
“The owner of this place must be away,” said Andy. “Gosh! how it rains!” he added, as he shut the window.
“Look at the quaint silver set!” said Pepper, his eyes catching sight of the service on a sideboard. “That must be pretty old.”