“We’ll do no such thing!” said Migwan, with unexpected spirit “I’ve started out to earn money to go to college by canning tomatoes, and I’m going to stay here until they’re canned; I don’t care who likes it or doesn’t.”
“That’s it, stand up for your rights,” applauded Sahwah.
“But what possible motive could anyone have for wanting us to get out of the house?” asked Migwan. Of course, there was no answer to this.
“Do you suppose the house will be burned down as the tepee was?” asked Gladys, in rather a scared voice. This suggestion sent a shiver through them all.
“We must get the policeman back again to watch,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
Accordingly, the redoubtable constable was brought on the scene again.
“Well, well, well,” he said, fingering the mysterious note. “Thought he’d come back again now that the coast was clear, did he? You notice, though, that he didn’t make no effort while I was here. You can bet your life he won’t get busy again while I’m here now. You ladies just rest easy and go on with your peeling.”
Scarcely had he finished speaking, when from the bowels of the earth and apparently under his very feet, there came the strange sound as of blows being struck on hard earth or stone. The expression on Dave Beeman’s face was such a mixture of surprise and alarm that the girls could not keep from laughing, disturbed as they were at the return of the sounds. “By gum,” said the constable, looking furtively around, “this is certainly a queer business.” He had heard the story of the well digger’s ghost and it was very strong in his mind just now. “Maybe it’s just as well not to meddle,” he said under his breath.
Off and on through the day they heard the same sounds issuing from the ground, and at dusk the weird moaning began again. The constable showed strong signs of wishing himself elsewhere. When darkness fell the noises ceased and were heard no more that night. But another sort of moaning had taken its place. This was the wind, which had been blowing strongly all day, and early in the evening increased to the proportions of a hurricane. With wise forethought Sahwah and Nyoda brought the raft and the rowboat up on land. Leaves, small twigs and thick dust filled the air. Windows rattled ominously; doors slammed with jarring crashes. Migwan, foreseeing a devastating storm, set all the girls to picking tomatoes as fast as they could, whether they were ripe or not, to save them from being dashed to the ground. They could ripen off the vines later.
At last the sandstorm drove them into the house, blinded. Then there came such a wind as none of them had ever experienced. Trees in the yard broke like matches; the Balm of Gilead roared like an ocean in a tempest. There was a constant rattle of pebbles and small objects against the window panes; then one of the windows in the dining-room was broken by a branch being hurled against it, and let in a miniature tempest. Papers blew around the room in great confusion. Migwan rolled the high topped sideboard in front of the broken pane to keep the wind out of the room. At times it seemed as if the very house must be coming down on top of their heads, and they stood with frightened faces in the front hall ready to dash out at a moment’s notice. A crash sounded on the roof and they thought the time had come, but in a moment they realized that it was only the chimney falling over. The bricks went sliding and bumping down the slope of the roof and fell to the ground over the edge.