The whole bungalow seemed filled with a roaring, trembling noise, and there was a slight vibration of the building.
“What is it? Oh, what is it?” cried Belle, in hysterical tones.
“I don’t know,” answered Cora. “But I’m going to find out.”
“How?”
“By calling the boys. Mrs. Floyd, are you awake?” Cora demanded, going to the head of the stairs.
“Yes. That noise awoke me.”
“Is Mr. Floyd home?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I’m going to telephone for the boys!”