“I’m sorry to have awakened you. I tried to be quiet.” As Judy started across the kitchen, the badly constructed floor creaked beneath her slippered feet. She had reached the living room doorway, when she was brought up short by the high pitched note of a musical instrument.
“There it is again, Miss Ward!” she whispered, grasping the teacher’s arm. “A flute! Hear it?”
“Yes, I do,” the Scout leader replied. “It certainly sounds like a reed or a wind instrument.” She stood very still, listening.
From below the flooring issued a series of musical notes, tuneless but not displeasing to the ear. Then the kitchen again was enveloped in silence.
“It wasn’t my imagination, Miss Ward. You heard it too!”
“No, you didn’t imagine it, Judy,” the teacher soberly agreed. “The sound came from the basement, or so it seemed to me.”
Crossing to the cellar door, Miss Ward twisted the knob and pulled hard on it. “It’s still locked,” she murmured. “I begin to understand why Mr. Krumm was unwilling to make a refund on the rent.”
“This explains why the other tenants moved out so suddenly.”
“It may,” Miss Ward acknowledged. “Evidently, there is a very good reason for keeping this door locked.”
“You don’t suppose—anyone—could be down there?” Judy said falteringly. “Maybe locked in?”