"You must really go!" And Mrs. De Peyster pressed her and Matilda toward the door.
But midway to the door the trio halted suddenly. Coming up the stairway was the sound of hurried feet—of many pairs of feet. The footsteps came through the hall. The trio did not breathe. The footsteps paused before the sitting-room door. The confederates gripped each others' arms.
"Are you sure you saw that person come in here?" they heard a voice ask—Jack's voice.
"I'm certain." The voice that answered was Mary's.
"I'll bet it was a sneak thief," said a third voice—Mr. Pyecroft's. "To slip into a house at a funeral, or a wedding, when a lot of people are coming and going—that's one of their oldest tricks." He turned the knob, and finding the door locked, shook it violently. "Open up, in there!" he called.
The three clung to one another for support.
"Better open up!" called a fourth voice—Judge Harvey's. "For we know you're in there!"
Breathless, the trembling conspirators clung yet more desperately.
"But how could she get in?" queried the excited voice of Mary. "I understood that Mrs. De Peyster locked the door before she went away."