"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," declared Winnie. "I'm not afraid of anything, once I know what it is; but when I don't know the cause, I can be scared as well as the next one."
Winnie was perfectly sincere in this statement. She might have added that no matter how badly frightened she was, she could not be kept from making her investigations. Now she prepared to go downstairs by pressing the button that lighted both halls.
"Don't go down, Winnie," begged Rosemary. "I don't believe it's anything but the wind."
"We had a high wind one night when your mother was home and nothing made this kind of racket," was Winnie's retort. "You sit at the top of the stairs, Rosemary, and you can see me all the time and you won't feel alone; there's no use in you prowling around just because I do."
"Hark—it's raining!" Rosemary had heard the sound of drops on the tin roof of the porch "I'm coming down with you, Winnie—wouldn't it be nice if only Hugh were here!"
The wail sounded again, low and hesitating, then it began to rise. As Winnie and Rosemary reached the level of the first floor hall the peak of the shriek sounded in their ears.
"Oh, don't go out in the kitchen!" Rosemary's voice shook with nervousness. "Winnie, don't go fussing around; come back in my room and sleep with me. We can't hear anything there."
"I aim to find out what—" began Winnie, then stopped suddenly.
Someone was coming up the narrow flagged walk, someone who was whistling softly.
"Hello!" came a low-voiced hail. "Hello—don't be frightened—this is Warren and Rich. Anything the matter?"