Again echoed the howls and wails, like those of the fabled banshee of Ireland, but the boys only felt the same gentle air currents in their faces.
“It might be there is a current of air higher up, away over our heads, that we don’t feel,” suggested Chot. “That might cause it.”
“We’ll see,” said Rick. He carried a long pole, and on the end of this he put the handle of an oil lantern, raising the light as high as he could toward the roof. “If there’s a current there it will flicker the light,” Rick told his chum.
The two boys watched the lantern. It’s flame burned as steadily as when Rick had held it, showing that there was no increase in the air current higher toward the roof. And yet the strange sounds kept up.
“Well they can’t hurt us; that’s sure,” said Rick, as he brought his lantern down. “I say let’s go on.”
“All right,” answered Chot, but there was not much enthusiasm in his voice.
The mysterious sounds kept up as the boys and the dog advanced, but Ruddy no longer howled in concert with them. Perhaps he felt that it would do no good, and then, too, the confidence the boys exhibited, though perhaps they did not feel, made an impression on the setter. At any rate he seemed more contented.
And then, almost as suddenly as they had started, the noises died away. Gradually they became less in volume until finally the boys noticed it. Rick was the first to speak about it.
“Say,” he called to Chot, “we haven’t heard that howling for some time; have we?”
“No, and I wish it would stop forever,” said Chot fervently.