“That’s right, Billy,” agreed Frank, “if I’ve got any ear for location of sound it is coming from the cliff.”
“How can it come from there!” protested Harry, as the bell ceased as suddenly as it had begun, “I’m sure we looked carefully enough over that wall of rock, and there’s nothing even resembling an opening in it—even supposing,” he added “that anyone would be crazy enough to climb up there—which they couldn’t do anyhow—and ring a bell.”
“Perhaps it’s some kind of a bird or animal,” suggested Billy, eager to find some satisfying solution of the uncanny sound.
“Yes, a chimes-bird or a bell-rabbit,” scornfully snorted Harry, “no, we’ll have to do better than that.”
“There’s no doubt it’s a sure-enough bell,” decided Frank.
“And a good loud one, too,” replied Harry. “I never heard a clearer or better one even on a church.”
“But who in thunder can be ringing it?” resumed Frank.
“There we are, back at the beginning of the question again,” rejoined Harry disgustedly.
“You can’t convince me that it hasn’t got something to do with the cave,” exclaimed Frank. “Possibly with the very door we uncovered to-day.”
“I suppose the man who rings it marches in prompt at midnight every night—when we had to dig up the ground with pick-axes before we could get it loose enough to shovel—try again, Frank;” laughed Harry.