“More like a house,” returned Harriet. “I’m glad the telephone is in the other room.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Horton was beginning, when there was a sharp crackling noise in the dining-room, a flash, and a smell as of rubber burning.
“What was it?” asked Mrs. Horton.
“Fuse burned out,” explained Aunt Bessie, who had run to see. “That’s a common occurrence in the country and out-of-the-way places like this. Listen to that!”
A great blaze of lightning showed them the street—“light as day,” Sunny said—and then a sheet of water blown by the wind rattled against the house and windows.
“Will it wreck ships?” asked Sunny Boy.
“We’ll hope not, precious,” returned Mother, hugging him. “Often when there is a storm on shore it is calm a few miles out at sea. But there will be a high tide and rough water for a couple of days, I’m afraid. You’ll see driftwood on the beach to-morrow.”
“I wonder what Queen does when it rains,” speculated Sunny, his thoughts turning to the friendly dog who roamed the sand and never seemed to have a home.
“I think Queen goes under a pier and stays till the storm is over,” said Miss Martinson. “And I think the worst of this storm is passed now. What is it, Harriet?”
“I can’t make out what it is,” said Harriet, her voice puzzled. “I guess it is alive, but it doesn’t move—”