Mysterious Knocking
For a moment after Tim’s discouraging words the twins stood and stared
helplessly out at the darkness of the night. From every angle the
situation was a serious one. If the country had been familiar to them,
they would have attempted to go out and look for Barry and Kent, but
they had only a sketchy notion of the hills and valleys. The wind was
blowing the snow around in such a way that even the stoutest woodsmen
might have been confused and lost on such a day. To the Ford boys it
seemed anything but cheering that their chums were somewhere abroad in
the storm and darkness.
“I wish I knew what to do,” Mac confessed, after they had stared out
into the night for some time.
Tim turned from the window and took off his hat and coat. “The first
thing we had better do is to get our things off,” he recommended. “It is
getting mighty warm in here now. Then we had better get supper ready.
They might come in yet, Mac. Maybe we’re only borrowing trouble.”
“It may be,” his brother agreed, brightening up. “They may have waited
at Fox Point until it blew over and will be here later. But if this
keeps up, they’ll have to come here on snowshoes.”
“Yes, it is getting deep. Well, what shall we do about supper? We aren’t
going to build a kitchen fire, and we won’t eat in that big dining
room.”
“No, we can make this room our headquarters for about everything,” Mac
nodded. “Let’s bring in that table from the kitchen and set it right
here by the fire. It will just fit our needs.”
Willing to occupy their minds with something besides worry, the two boys
went to the kitchen and carried out the small table that Mac had spoken
about. It was just large enough for the four of them, and they found
clean knives and forks in the drawer, but Tim washed them for the sake
of safety. After this was done he put them around the table.
“I’ll set four places,” he said.
Mac glanced at the clock and noted that it was close to six. “Sure, set
four places, they’ll be along soon,” he said, but his voice lacked
conviction, and both of them were more alarmed than they would care to
admit.
“What shall we have for supper?” Tim inquired, beginning to dig among
the stores that they had brought over from the cabin.
“I was hoping to have sausage,” Mac smiled. “But I guess we had better
not count on it. Open a can of pork and beans. I’ll fix the coffee.”
For a while they worked silently. The fire was a mass of glowing red
coals, and the room was lighted by one lamp. They could see well enough
by this light and did not intend to light another one, because they
thought it best to save for an emergency. Tim put the beans on to warm,
and Mac made coffee. While these things were coming along, the brothers
sat on the wicker couch and stared into the fire.
“I hope the other boys aren’t cold while we are enjoying this fine
fire,” Mac murmured.
“They may be around the stove at Fox Point,” Tim hoped.
“Sure. On the other hand, we can’t help but realize that they may be out
in the woods, wandering around. Hang it all, I hate waiting worse than
anything else on earth!”
Tim sprang up and went to the window, peering out. “So do I. I
wonder——No, the storm is pretty bad, and we had better not get away from
the lodge. Listen to that old wind!”
Mac couldn’t help listening to it. With a shrill, whistling sound it
tore around the lodge and made some of the windows rattle. The fire in
the grate was vigorous and glowing because of it. Already the coffee was
bubbling, and a tempting odor came from the pot on the coals. Had the
other boys been there with them, they would have thoroughly enjoyed it
all, but just now its attraction was lost in the air of uncertainty that
surrounded them.
“I think we moved out of the cabin just in time,” he said. “That little
old place is something of an antique, and it was colder than it should
have been. I’ll bet the wind is coming in under the door over there.”
Tim nodded, looking around the room they were in. “Yes, this surely is a
great improvement. Wicker couch and chairs, window seats and well-filled
bookcases. How shall we sleep tonight? In the bedrooms?”
“I don’t think so. Too cold. This couch will be good for one of us to
sleep on, and if we lug the mattresses in here, we can make dandy beds.
I have an idea that the sheets and everything else in those rooms would
be as cold as ice.”
Tim took the pan of beans off of the fire. “These are ready, and the
boys aren’t here yet, though it is after six. Want to eat?”
Mac shook his head. “Not yet. Let’s wait awhile. We can heat them up
again when they come. I’ll go get some more coal.”
He put his coat and hat on and took the coal pail. Tim silently handed
him the flashlight. Mac went out the door and down the hall, while Tim
stared into the fire.
Mac did not stay out long, and when he got back he rubbed his hands.
“Man alive, but it is cold! Say, the boys have no lantern with them,
have they?”
“No, only a flashlight.”
“They couldn’t keep a lantern going, anyway, on a windy night like
this.”
Silence again fell between them, and at last it was seven o’clock. Tim
looked around the room and then got up. They had put the lamp out and
had been sitting in the light of the fire.
“Mac, they aren’t coming, so you and I had better eat something. I know
you don’t feel much like eating, and neither do I, but it will do us
good to pack something solid away inside of us.”
“I never felt less like eating,” growled Mac.
“I know it. I realize just now how you feel. But we might need our
strength later on, and we can do more for the boys on a full stomach
than we ever could on an empty one.”
“You’re right,” his brother nodded. “If we only knew something! It is
the uncertainty that makes it all so hard.”
Once more they warmed the beans and coffee, and when the food had been
placed on their plates and the beverage in the cups, they began to eat.
It was a hasty and a silent meal, for they were oppressed, and neither
of them possessed any appetite to speak of. The two empty places at the
table haunted them, and they found it hard to keep various alarming
thoughts out of their heads.
“I think we ought to light a lamp and put it in the window, as a guide
for them,” Mac proposed, when they had finished their meal.
“Sure thing,” Tim agreed. “They may come along late, and any kind of a
light will be a help to them. We haven’t got much oil, but we’ll use all
that we have in a lamp for them.”
Mac picked up a taboret and put it on the window seat. “Put the lamp on
top of that,” he directed. “That ought to shine for quite a distance. If
the oil runs out, we can go until daylight without any. We’ll get enough
coal in here to last all night, and we won’t have to build a new fire in
the morning. If they haven’t come in by that time we’ll have to go after
them, storm or no storm.” Tim placed the lighted lamp on the taboret,
and the boys felt that they had done all that could be done under the
circumstances. Mac sat on the couch in a reclining position, and his
brother squinted at the titles on the backs of the books in the
bookcase.
“I’ll try a little reading,” he announced. “Don’t know how successful it
will be.”
Mac yawned and slid a little lower. “I’m too tired and worried to read,”
he said. “Better not get hold of a spook book.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Tim replied. “I need something exciting to
keep me awake and take my mind off of things.”
He finally found a book that suited him, and, drawing a chair close to
the lamp on the taboret, he started to read. Mac sank lower on the couch
and soon fell asleep. Tim read on. It was a little colder over near the
lamp than he wished for, but he didn’t want to take the lamp away from
the window.
A sudden clear tapping on the window back of him caused Tim to start
violently and almost drop his book. It came on the glass of the window
at the end of the room and not where the light was. Tim jumped up
joyously, sure that the boys had returned.
“Hey, Mac! Wake up! The boys are here!”
Mac bounded to his feet. “They are? Where?”
Tim was at the dark window, peering out. “They just knocked here. I
can’t see them, but they just tapped on the glass while I was reading.
Almost scared——There!”
“They are at the back door,” Mac whooped, seizing his flashlight. “Come
on, we’re the committee of welcome.”
“We’ll surely welcome them,” Tim agreed, as they made their way along
the hall to the kitchen. Mac quickly turned the key in that door and
drew back the knob. The door opened, but no one was there. The boys
looked around the porch and flashed the light into every corner, but
without success.
“I was sure that knocking came from the back door,” Tim exclaimed, when
they failed to find anyone.
“So was I. Maybe they are trying to put something over on us.”
“Maybe,” admitted Tim, doubtfully. “But I should think they would have
had enough of being out in the cold. Well, they aren’t here. We had
better go in. Your flashlight is getting weak.”
“It’s about shot.” Mac locked the door, and they walked slowly down the
hall toward the living room. It had just occurred to them that they were
in what was known as a haunted lodge, and various thoughts were crowding
into their minds. In the living room they looked uncertainly at each
other.
“I doubt if the boys would play any such foolish stunts,” Tim remarked.
“I doubt it, too. Of course, it’s a good opportunity to have a little
fun with——”
“Listen!” Tim cried, holding up his hand.
There were three distinct thumps on the side of the lodge, and then all
was quiet. Then a loud and insistent knocking came on the front door.
The twins looked at each other with startled eyes. Then Tim took the
lamp, and they started for the front door. Mac took up the poker as they
passed the fireplace.
“I’ll open the door,” he said, and while Tim held the lamp he turned the
key and pulled the knob. The door came open with a rush, and the wind
snuffed the lamp flame out in a twinkling, and yet not so quickly that
the Ford twins could make out the fact that there was no one near the
front door.