“It’s only those mischievous boys,” declared Paul. “We’ll catch ’em in the very act now.”
“But how did the little rascals get in without our seeing them?” asked Walter.
“We weren’t watching the bungalow very closely,” said Paul. “They could easily have slipped in from the back, around on the forest side. They watched their chance.”
“But what’s their game?” asked Jack, as they crossed the rustic bridge on the run, their footsteps echoing dully on the boards.
“Go easy!” cautioned Walter. “Don’t make so much noise, or we’ll scare them away before we have a chance to catch them.”
“They can’t hear us above the noise of the waterfall,” declared Jack. “But what’s their game? That’s what I want to know. Why are they flashing that light about so?”
“There must be two or three of them with lights,” said Cora. “For first I noticed it up in the window of my room, and a second later, certainly in less time than any human boy could make the trip downstairs, the light showed from a window in the living room.”
“Probably there are three or four of the little rascals,” said Walter. “Come on now, we’re almost there.”
“Wait here, girls,” suggested Cora. “Let the boys go ahead, though after they catch these mischief-makers I’ll feel like giving them a good shaking myself.”
Walter, Paul and Jack advanced toward the bungalow. They went softly up on the porch, looking sharply for a sign of the light.