“Yes, you are!” he insisted. “Something did happen, Cora. Go on, tell a fellow.”
“Nothing really happened, Walter.”
“How did you know?” she asked with a start.
“I thought I’d catch you. Come now. Own up. You didn’t have that toy telephone strung to our bungalow just on general principles. Did you hear something, Cora?”
She looked around to make sure none of the others were listening. Then she told Walter of the queer noise, enjoining him to secrecy, however.
“So that’s what it was,” he said. “I thought it was thunder myself, but if you heard it in your bungalow it couldn’t have been.”
“And it was in our bungalow,” Cora said. “Seemingly away down in the cellar, or sub-cellar, if they have such a thing.”
“Not as deep as that, I guess, Cora. But it was a queer rumbly noise, though how I could hear it, when it was under your bungalow I can’t imagine.”
“Unless it came from the waterfall.”