“Don’t go down there,” Miss Meadows advised nervously. “It might be dangerous.”
“It’s worse not to investigate,” Judy insisted. “You can’t stay here and live in constant dread.”
Her fingers closed upon the key. She unlocked the door, but hesitated as she peered down the dark stairway.
“Do you have a flashlight?” she asked Kathleen, who huddled at her elbow.
“In my knapsack,” Kathleen replied. “But I left it on the station wagon, never thinking I’d want it here.”
“There are candles on the shelf,” Miss Meadows remembered. “I’ll get one, if you insist on going down there. I’d rather just move out of this place though!”
“I don’t know where you’ll find another cottage on short notice,” Judy told her regretfully. “Everything around here has been taken.”
“I can go to a hotel.”
“The closest one is eighteen miles away. Aunt Mattie, I don’t like to urge you to stay, but there must be a logical explanation for these strange noises. I mean to find it too! Let me have one of those candles.”
Miss Meadows found it for her, and lighted the wick.