"I'll be switched if I know, Frank! It just went through me like a knife, it was so queer. If this were the middle of the night now I might mention ghosts, because if there were such things I'd imagine them making just about that sort of a sound."
Frank laughed at that.
"Well, since this is broad daylight," he observed, "and ghosts are said never to walk except around twelve at night, we'll have to look somewhere else for our explanation. Now I've known a chained dog to make a noise like that, a sort of half bay, half growl that would give you a start until you found out the cause."
"But we've understood they keep no dog up here," urged Bluff. "And if they did have one wouldn't he have scented us, and started barking long ago?"
"What you say sounds reasonable enough, Bluff," Frank admitted. "It couldn't have been a donkey braying either, because we know how they drag it out. Besides unless I'm mistaken the sound came straight from the direction of the house itself."
"Sure it did," said Bluff, as they started to pass through the gap that could be made by swinging the loose board aside. "I wonder if old Aaron learned of our being there, and gave that yawp to show his anger. I'm almost sorry now we didn't meet the gentleman face to face."
"Perhaps it's just as well, from what the housekeeper said," replied Frank, although secretly he was even more disappointed than his chum.
"Then of course you wouldn't dream of going back to look around in hopes of finding out what that queer noise, almost like a shriek, meant?" pursued Bluff, in a wheedling tone.
"I guess not this time," decided the other; "it's really none of our business, you know, and our errand at the Dennison place has ended in smoke. We'll have to settle on trying at that village we can see miles away along the lake shore. Perhaps to-morrow you and Jerry can take the boat and row over there."
"Oh! Barkis is willing, all right, because we just can't keep house without our fresh eggs and butter, you know."