Dan listened intently. Distinctly, he could hear tiptoeing steps on the iron stairway! Someone was up there, stealthily descending!
Panic momentarily overcame the boy. “Brad!” he yelled. “Brad!”
It was reassuring to hear the older Cub yell: “Coming!”
“What’s wrong?” Brad demanded, popping into the vestibule. “You look as if you’d seen a ghost.”
“I didn’t see anything, but I have a bad case of the jitters,” Dan admitted sheepishly.
“It’s time we quit this place anyhow,” Brad replied. “I’m sure those carved initials on the pew are the same as the ones we saw in the alley. Pat Oswald must have carved them both.”
Dan nodded scarcely listening. He cast an uneasy glance toward the iron stairway.
“Say, what’s wrong with you anyhow?” Brad demanded.
Dan was ashamed to tell him of his fears. Now that Brad was with him again, he didn’t feel as nervous as before. Like as not he’d allowed his imagination to play tricks on him again.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”