"Where are you going?" asked Russ.
"I'm going to ask Grandma for a cookie," explained Mun Bun. "I'm hungry."
"So'm I," added Margy.
"Don't eat before dinner," advised Rose. "Save your 'hungry' for the roast chicken."
And Grandma Ford told the little ones the same thing, but they insisted that they wanted a cookie each, so she gave them one apiece, but they were rather small.
"Because," said Grandma, "I want you to eat my nice, brown, roast chicken."
And Mun Bun and Margy did. For, when dinner time came, they had as good appetites as any of the others. Every one seemed to be hungry, and, for a while, the sound of the clatter of the knives, forks and plates was louder than the talk.
After dinner they sat about the open fire on the big hearth in the living-room, and cracked nuts. Or, rather, Grandpa Ford cracked them and the children ate them.
"Wouldn't it be funny," began Russ, "if we should——"
And, just then, there suddenly sounded throughout the house that strange, groaning sound.