Frank flung open the door and strode into the room beyond. It was a very gloomy chamber, for the one window was boarded up, but when their eyes became accustomed to the meager light the boys saw that a door on the far side of the room led into a hallway. It was evidently not the hallway that they had already been in at the front of the house, but presumably one that led to a side door.
“Nothing here,” said Frank, “I’d like to find those stairs. That yell came from the upper part of the house.”
The boys made their way across the room. Outside they could hear the sweep of the rain and the steady rumblings of the thunder, for the storm was now at its height. Through the chinks of the boards over the window they could occasionally see the lurid glare of lightning.
Suddenly there was a blast of wind that seemed to shake the entire house. A sharp, violent noise immediately behind them made every boy jump with surprise.
They wheeled about.
The door behind them had been blown shut. Biff Hooper, who was nearest, grasped the knob and tried to open it. He wrenched and tugged at the door, but it remained obstinate.
“We’re locked in!” he muttered.
“We can get out, all right,” said Frank. “There must be a door in this side hall.”
He walked across the room and entered the hallway.
At the same instant a maniacal howl rang through the old house. The hollow echoes magnified its volume.