"We mustn't let them get the idea that anything is wrong here at Great Hedge," went on Grandpa Ford. "It might frighten them, though, of course, it is nothing like a ghost. I can't imagine where they got the idea, but we must not speak of it again in front of them.
"I do wish we could find out what it is that makes such a queer noise. Your mother and I," he said to Daddy Bunker, "have heard it many times, and now, the first night you are here, it sounds again."
"But only once," said Mr. Bunker, "and that may have been the wind, as we said it was."
"No, it wasn't the wind," declared Grandpa Ford. "For I have heard the same moaning sound when there was hardly any wind. The wind has died down now. It is quieter. I think the storm has stopped, or soon will."
He went to the window to look out, and, as he did so, there sounded through the house a deep, dull groan. It seemed to fill many rooms, and for a moment Daddy and Mother Bunker and Grandpa and Grandma Ford looked at one another. Then they listened to see if any of the children were awake. But upstairs all was quiet.
"There it goes again," said Grandpa Ford.
"I heard it," answered Daddy Bunker. "I wonder what it could have been?"
"The wind," said Mrs. Bunker in a low voice.
"But the wind has stopped blowing," remarked Grandma Ford.
"Oh, well, we'll find out what it is soon," said Daddy Bunker. "Don't let it worry you. We came here, Mother dear, to help you hunt for the queer noise, and that's what we'll do."