Daddles knew, and this we followed in single file.

All of a sudden we heard a strange, thumping sound, right in front of us. We stopped short. There was a dark, indistinct ma.s.s of something moving slowly toward us. It seemed to be humped up, like a man crawling forward on his hands and knees. Almost as soon as we stopped, it--whatever it was--stopped too. It was a very unpleasant thing to find in a lonely field, in the middle of the night, and as I stared at it, I felt a curious p.r.i.c.kling sensation run all over me.

We all stood in perfect silence. So did the thing. It looked like a man, only it was a very big and broad man, and also a very low and stumpy one, as I said. Why he should be crawling along in that open field, on his hands and knees, was something I could not understand. Unless,--and this gave me another chilly feeling-- unless he were a real burglar. I wanted to run, but I was ashamed to do so for fear of what the others would think. Moreover, although I was afraid to stay there, I was also afraid to run, for I didn't like the idea of that thing chasing me through the fog.

So we all stood there in a group. At last Mr. Daddles stepped toward the thing.

"What do you want?" he said, in a low tone.

There was no answer. The thing stayed perfectly motionless. This was getting terrible. I could feel my heart thumping away, and my temples seemed to be bursting with the blood which was pumped into them.

"What do you want?" said Mr. Daddles again; "come, who are you and what do you want?"

He took another step toward the thing, and then suddenly jumped back. The thing seemed to sway toward us, and then it uttered a horribly loud:

"Moo-o-o-o-o-o!"

It was a second or two before we could laugh.

"Well, you miserable old cow!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "you nearly scared a crowd of burglars to death!"

And he walked up to her, where she had already begun to feed again, and slapped her fat side. She paid no attention to him, but kept on cropping the gra.s.s.

"Come on, now, boys. I thought we were attacked by a hippopotamus, at least."

"I thought it was a man without any legs," said Jimmy.

"I thought it was a real burglar," said I.

"I dunno what I thought it was," said Ed Mason, "and that was the worst of it."

And if any of you who read this think we were a silly lot to be frightened by an old cow, it is because you have never met one at night, in a thick fog. You try it some time, and see.

We went down a little slope, and came up behind the house and barn. We crossed a vegetable patch, and then a flower-garden.

Jimmy stopped Mr. Daddles.

"We'd better look out for the dog."

"No; my uncle never keeps one,--he doesn't like 'em."

In a grape-arbor, right back of the house, we paused to decide on a plan of action.

"We'll try that window first," said our leader, pointing, "and then the others on the veranda. I don't want to break one if we can help it. If we have to, we'll take a bas.e.m.e.nt window. You stay here a second."

He darted out of the arbor, and ran noiselessly up the steps. He tried a window, gave it up, and tip-toed along the veranda to another. No sooner had he started to raise the sash than he turned and beckoned to us. In an instant we were out of the arbor, and at the window with him.

"This is great luck,--look!"

He raised the window without any trouble at all.

"Very careless of Aunt f.a.n.n.y,--but it saves us from having to smash one."

We all climbed inside a small room. When he had closed the window, and pulled down the shade, Ed Mason lighted a match.

"The pantry!" we all exclaimed.

"Yes, we've landed on our feet at last. Is that shade down? Light the gas ... keep it turned low,--that's right. Now, let's see. We won't find much,--family's gone away ... taken all the pie with 'em, as I said, still, there ought to be something--"

We were all rummaging amongst the shelves and cupboards.

"Hum!" said Mr. Daddles, "stove-polish. Anybody want any stove- polish? Raw oatmeal,--that's a little better, but not much. Not much choice between 'em. What's this? ... Starch. Nice lot of nutritious food Aunt f.a.n.n.y leaves for her burglars. Now, with some flat-irons and a couple of stove-lids we could make up a jolly little meal. What have you got there?"

I had found some dried currants in a tin box, Jimmy had a bottle of vanilla extract, while Ed Mason exhibited a box of tapioca, or something of the sort.

"Well, well,--this is more careless of Aunt f.a.n.n.y than leaving the window unlocked. No wonder she left it unlocked,--she wanted burglars to come in, and choke to death. I never saw such a lot of foolish food. Here's some raw macaroni,--another toothsome dish-- nutmegs--pepper--sticky fly-paper,--better and better. Perfectly delicious!"

"Here you are!" said Ed Mason.

He had found a cake-box, with half a loaf of pound-cake,--the kind that keeps for years. Just at the same instant I had climbed up on a shelf and captured two gla.s.s tumblers whose contents seemed promising. Sure enough,--their labels bore the fascinating words: "Raspberry Jam." Jimmy Toppan presently discovered a can of soda- crackers. Mr. Daddles plunged once more into a cupboard and came forth with a can of the stuff you shine bra.s.s with,--the kind with the horrible smell.

"Always fortunate," he murmured; "well, this will do,--what you've discovered. I don't seem to have contributed much to the picnic.

We'll get some water to drink, and take this into the dining-room.

I'm about ready to sit down and rest. Come on,--softly, now. Turn out the light. ... Here's the kitchen ... no, it isn't, either,-- it's a laundry. ... That's funny ... been making improvements, I guess. Here we are--give me another match. No, don't light the gas,--no need ... and here's--what's this? Butler's pantry ... yes ... pa.s.sage ... here's the dining-room. Here we are. Shades down?

Yes ... light the gas ... hullo! Where's the old stuffed sea gull gone? New paper! Oh, well, it's two years since I was here."

Mr. Daddles wandered around the room for a while, with a puzzled air, but the rest of us were too hungry to pay much attention to him. Ed Mason filled a water-pitcher in the butler's pantry, and Jimmy brought some tumblers from a closet. I opened the jam, and got some plates and knives. Then we all sat down and began to eat.

I have never tasted anything better than the crackers and jam.

n.o.body said anything for a few minutes: we just ate.

Suddenly Mr. Daddles held up his hand,--

"Sh-h-h-h-h!"

We stopped everything and listened. For a minute or two we had quite forgotten that we were midnight burglars, and we were going on as if we were right at home.

"Sh-h-h-h-h-h-h!" said Mr. Daddles again, "don't you hear something?"

We all did hear something that very instant. No one could help hearing it. It was the strangest sound,--as much like the sawing of wood as anything I can think of. Except that toward the end of the stroke it seemed to run into some tough knots in the wood, for it made two or three funny, little noises, like "yop, yop, yop."

Then it stopped for a second or two, and then there was another long stroke, with "yop, yop" on the end.

"Do you s'pose it's another cow?" whispered Jimmy.

Mr. Daddles shook his head, and held up his hand again for silence. The noise continued with perfect regularity for half a minute,--then it stopped altogether.

"It's in the wall," I suggested, pointing. "P'r'aps it's a mouse gnawing."

"It's more like a buffalo gnawing," said Ed Mason.