All stopped and gazed at the house. The windows were closed, no curtain could have been blowing.
“Nonsense,” said David. “What you saw was the sunset reflected on the glass.”
“I’ll bet it wasn’t,” Tom retorted. And straightway he went up the graveled walk that led to the front door.
Now usually John Tuckerman had been careful to lock the door when he left the house, but this time he had forgotten. Tom turned the knob and pushed the door open.
They all went into the hall and stood there listening. Undoubtedly there was the sound of footsteps on the floor above.
“That sounds to me like a giggle,” whispered Ben.
“Sh-ssh,” warned David.
Footsteps tapped on the floor, were coming apparently toward the head of the staircase.
Then unmistakably there was a laugh, a light and merry laugh, in a feminine key.
In the silence that followed David’s voice rose. “The lady with the enormous feet!” he muttered.