“I’m sure I don’t know. It began about an hour after you left. First I heard a noise over toward your cabin and came out on the porch to see if I could see what it was. Your place was all lit up and, through the windows, I could see something all white moving about and every minute or two there would be a noise as though someone was pounding on a tin wash dish. Then off to the right, in the woods there, a bright light would flare up and then die down, and once I saw a white thing run, or rather float, along the path between your cabin and the dining-hall. It looked about ten feet tall but I don’t suppose it was. Anyway, when it got to the door, it seemed to pass right through it without bothering to open it. And then—”
“Yes?” Bob encouraged as she paused.
“Then after a few minutes it came out again and floated back to your cabin and the noises began again.”
“Poor mother. It’s a wonder you didn’t die of fright,” Helen declared.
“Well, I didn’t, but I was scared.”
“And no wonder,” Jack said.
“How long did it keep up?” Bob asked.
“It must have been all of three hours.”
“Was there anything else?”
“I—I don’t think so. After I saw the thing go back into your cabin I went inside and locked the door, but I could still hear the noise.”