They followed the path which led around the side of the house until it
neared the kitchen door. When they reached that point Ricky halted.
"Listen!"
A plaintive miaow sounded from the kitchen.
"Oh, bother! Satan's been left inside. Go and let him out."
"Will you stay right here?" Val asked.
"Of course. Though I don't see why you and Rupert have taken to acting
as if Fu Manchu were loose in our yard. Now hurry up before he claws the
screen to pieces. Satan, I mean, not the worthy Chinese gentleman."
But Satan did not meet Val at the door. Apparently, having received no
immediate answer to his plea, he had withdrawn into the bulk of the
house. Speaking unkind things about him under his breath, Val started
across the dark kitchen.
Suddenly he stopped. He felt the solid edge of the table against his
thigh. When he put out his hand he touched the reassuring everyday form
of Lucy's stone cooky jar. He was in their own pleasant everyday
kitchen.
But--
He was not alone in that house!
There had been the faintest of sounds from the forepart of the main
section, a sound such as Satan might have caused. But Val knew--knew
positively--that Satan was guiltless. Someone or something was in the
Long Hall.
He crept by the table, hoping that he could find his way without running
into anything. His hand closed upon the knob of the door opening upon
the back stairs used by Letty-Lou.
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