I picked up a little pebble and tapped gently on the window. Nothing happened. I ran the pebble quickly along the side of the house and gave a low whistle.
I waited, listened, and heard nothing.
The east was orange now, and the stars had drifted far back into space. I was seized with a paroxysm of shivering. I tapped on the window with my knuckles and called, “Louie. Oh, Louie. Wake up.”
The few seconds of silence after that seemed hours.
I walked around to the front door of the cabin and tapped on it gently. Then when I received no answer, I tried the knob.
The door was unlocked. It swung inward.
It had been cold outside, but the air was fresh. In here, there was a stale closeness to the atmosphere which made it seem even colder. I didn’t think I’d ever get warm again. Louie shouldn’t have left the door unlocked. I’d cautioned him particularly about that, and tonight of all times— I locked the door carefully behind me, tiptoed across the room. The boards creaked under my feet. The door of Louie’s bedroom was closed. I turned the knob, opened the door gently, and said in a whisper, “Oh, Louie!”
Enough light was coming from the east now so I could see the objects in the room clearly. The bed hadn’t been slept in.
I stood staring at that vacant bed as the significance of what it meant gradually dawned on my mind.
I whirled and strode toward Helen Framley’s door. I didn’t bother to knock, just turned the knob and kicked the door open.