A silence followed the summons and when several seconds had elapsed John repeated his knocking. Still no one came to welcome them, and then, glancing behind him at his friend, John demurely raised the latch and opened the door.
Fred at once followed and the two boys found themselves in a low, rude kitchen. The stove was in one corner and it was plain now that the smoke they had discovered was rising from it through the chimney. Upon the stove several cooking utensils were to be seen, but as yet no person had announced his presence in the little building.
“There must be somebody here,” whispered Fred.
“Of course there is.”
“Well, why doesn’t he show up?”
“He will be here in a minute.”
But when several minutes passed and still no one made known his presence, John decided to announce their arrival in other ways.
“Hello!” he called, and then as his hail was not answered he repeated the summons in tones still louder. “Hello! Hello!” he shouted again.
While he was speaking both boys were glancing toward the rude stairway that led from the room to the small loft. They had surmised that the occupants of the house might have been caught in the storm as they themselves had been, and were in the upper room changing their clothing.
“Who are you?”