"Hab yo' cotched de ghost?" asked Dinah, looking out from her kitchen.
"Not yet—but almost," said Mr. Bobbsey. "I must clean out this closet, and find the rat-hole. Then I'll set the trap. Come away Snap. You missed him that time."
The dog was not so sure of this. He stayed near the closet, while Mr. Bobbsey set out the boxes and barrels, but no rat was to be seen, nor even a mouse. And, the odd part of it was that, when everything was out of the locker, there was no hole to be seen, through which any of the gnawing animals might have slipped.
"That's funny," said the twins' father, as he peered about. "I don't see how that rat got in here, or got out again."
"Perhaps it wasn't a rat," suggested Mrs. Bobbsey.
"What was it, then, that made the noise?" asked her husband.
"I don't know," she answered. "Something might have bumped against the boat outside."
"Yes, that's so," admitted Mr. Bobbsey. "But Snap wouldn't act that way just on account of a noise."
The boxes and barrels were put back into the closet, but even that did not seem to satisfy Snap. He remained near the locker for some time, now and then growling and showing his teeth. Mr. Bobbsey looked in some of the other, and smaller, lockers, but all he found was a tiny hole, hardly big enough for a mouse.
"Perhaps it was a mouse," he said. "Anyhow, I'll set a trap there.
Dinah, toast me a bit of cheese."