It was a smallish, grey stone house, in a straggling garden where a huge army of weeds had nearly choked the flowers, a few of which still fought for existence—a rose or two, and a few thin, sad wallflowers.
A moat ran half-way round the deserted Grange. In one place the walls went right down into the water.
With all the strength of their lungs the Cubs’ shouted the familiar call, “Ya-hoo-oo-wah!” and then stood still and listened.
“Ya-hoo-oo-wah! Yah-hoo-oo-wah!” came back a faint answer from the grey walls of the Grange.
“A beastly echo again,” said Nipper, in despair. But Billy Brown was clutching his arm with perspiring fingers.
“No, no, Nipper!” he panted; “not an echo; echoes don’t say it twice!”
“No they don’t!” cried Nipper excitedly. “Bob, you aren’t such a chump as I thought you were!”
“Danny—Danny!” shouted Nipper.
“Hul-lo!” came Danny’s voice, very faint and far away.
Running through the tangled garden, the Cubs entered the Grange through the open door. Their footsteps sounded hollow and uncanny on the wooden floors.