“Oh, it was just a noise,” replied Tess, vaguely. Ruth’s evident idea—evident, at least, to the older ones—was to learn if any attempt had been made by Hop Wong or the two strange men to enter the cellar under cover of the approaching storm.
“But can’t you tell me what sort of noise?” persisted Ruth.
“It was—now, it was a noisy noise!” exclaimed Sammy, with a triumphant air.
And he wondered why some of them laughed.
“Never mind, Sammy,” said Neale consolingly, “most noises are noisy. And that’s the sort of noise that annoys an oyster, if I remember the joke aright.”
“If you get off any more old ones like that,” threatened Hal, “we’ll sentence you to stand out in the rain and sing a song.”
“And it’s some rain!” murmured Luke.
Indeed, though the first fury of the storm was over, culminating, it seemed, in that one terrific crack, there was now a steady downpour which seemed likely to last all night.
“Sammy, you’d better stay here to supper,” said Ruth, when the meal was nearly ready. “I’ll telephone over to your mother to say you’re all right.”
“Oh, I guess she knows I’m all right,” Sammy announced, with cheerful irresponsibility.