Just then the sound broke out afresh.
“Owoooooo!”
It was a long-drawn-out, moaning sound that rose in volume to a veritable shriek, indescribably terrifying.
“Ghosts!” clamored Chet.
“There aren’t any such things!” snorted Joe. “It must be the wind.”
“You n-never heard the w-wind make a n-noise like that before, d-did you?” stammered Chet.
The other boys were forced to admit that they never had. The sound had a quality that was almost human. Besides, they had been listening to the howling of the wind all evening and at no time had it approached that mournful wail they had just heard.
“Maybe somebody is lost out in the snow and crying for help,” suggested Biff.
“How could anybody get out to this island on a night like this?”
“Wait till we hear it again.”