“It was those lights that bothered me again. Now that it’s morning, I feel much better about it. But last night, and until after I telephoned, I felt so jittery.”
“Lights on the private road?” Judy questioned.
Miss Meadows did not answer until after she had removed the muffins from the oven. Then she said:
“I awoke about two o’clock, I’d judge. I can’t explain it, but I had a strong feeling that something was wrong. I lay there in bed for awhile, listening. I could hear the muffled rumble of a big truck engine.”
“Nothing so unusual about that, Aunt Mattie. A great many trucks pass on the main highway, even at night.”
“This truck didn’t pass,” Miss Meadows said impressively. “I saw the lights flash past my bedroom window. Because I was nervous and couldn’t sleep, I got up and looked out. I saw the truck stop, and the lights went off. Then the truck turned down that old road.”
Judy and Kathleen had listened attentively to Miss Meadows’ account. They exchanged a quick glance but remained silent.
“I suppose there’s no occasion to be bothered about a truck turning down a private road,” Judy’s aunt chattered on. “It shouldn’t worry me, I know. But I kept imagining all sorts of things, wondering if those men might be hi-jackers.”
“Aunt Mattie, we don’t consider you one bit silly to be nervous about it,” Judy said quickly. “You didn’t telephone the state highway patrol?”
“No, I thought of it, but after all, I didn’t know but what the trucks had a right to be on that road. It could have been loggers?”