“All ri— Take—”
We stopped short in horror wondering what had happened, for Uncle Dick’s words seemed cut in two, there was a rustling scrambling sound, and then all was white fog and silence, broken only by our panting breath.
“Dick! Where are you?” cried Uncle Jack taking a step forward.
“Mind!” cried Uncle Bob, catching him by the arm.
It was well he did, for that was the rustling scrambling noise again falling on my ears, with a panting struggle, and two voices in the dense fog seeming to utter ejaculations of horror and dread.
Chapter Five.
A Night of Anxiety.
I looked in the direction from which the sounds came, but there was nothing visible, save the thick white fog, and in my excitement and horror, thinking I was looking in the wrong direction, I turned sharply round.