“Sure, it’s a dog. Probably one of the big ones on a neighborly tour of investigation.” She watched a bit longer, and was just about to get into bed when she spied a thin streak of light, like a carefully shaded flash, that cast a faint glow on the ground. Then it began to travel swiftly up toward the lock and to her straining ears came the faintest sound of scraping. Quick as a thought Roberta threw on a robe, jammed her feet into her slippers as she hurried across the room, then raced to her Father’s door, where she knocked.
“Dad, dad,” she called softly.
“My dear, what is the matter?” Mrs. Langwell had heard and leaped out of bed in fright before her husband was fully awake. Her hand moved along the wall for the electric switch, but Roberta placed her own over it quickly.
“Don’t, Mummy,” she whispered.
“What is the matter, Berta?” her father asked. He was wide awake now and up beside her. “Are you sick?”
“No, Dad, but someone is trying to get into the hangar!”
“To get into the hangar?”
“Yes, I saw someone moving by the door and watched it. Thought it was a dog, then whoever it is turned on a little light by the opening,” she explained excitedly.
“No one would try to steal the planes, either of them, dear, it would make too much noise,” he protested.
“If they get the door open they could muffle the machine a bit, roll it out and get away,” she insisted.