Ned and Nat, too, soon fell into sound sleep, for their evening ride left in its tracks the pleasant flavor of most persuasive drowsiness, in spite of the promises made to Dorothy that they would be “on the lookout” all night, and no intruder should come around the Cedars without the two youths of the estate being aware of the intrusion.
But alas for such promises! Did boys ever sleep so soundly? And even Dorothy, though usually one apt to awake at small sounds, “hugged her pillow” with a mighty “grip,” because, of course, when a girl insists upon keeping awake just as long as she can keep her eyes propped open, when the “props” do slip away, sleep comes with a “thud.”
So it was that Tavia, she who made a practice of covering up her head and getting to sleep in order to avoid trouble (when she heard it coming)—Tavia it was who heard something very like a step on the side porch, just after midnight.
Some one has said that it is easier to keep burglars out than to chase them out: this infers, of course, that it may be wiser to give a false alarm than to take the opposite course. But true to her principles Tavia covered up her head, and told herself that it would be very foolish to arouse the household just because she heard a strange sound.
Yet there was something uncanny about the noise! There it was again!
Tavia raised her head and looked around. Dorothy slept in the alcove and a light burned dimly from a shaded lamp between the two sleeping apartments. Tavia could see that her chum was sleeping soundly.
“Dorothy! Dorothy!” she whispered, afraid now to hear her own voice. “Dorothy! get up! I think I hear some one—”
Crash!
Every one in the house heard that! It came from the dining room and was surely a heavy crash of glass breaking!
Instantly Dorothy dashed to the door, and putting her finger on an electric button, flooded the hallways upstairs and down with glaring light. The next moment she touched another button! The burglar alarm.