ld outsiders pry into their secrets?

Mrs. Dunbar, however, had not retired as early as did her young guests.
In fact she phoned again to the Sanitarium to find out, if possible,
how Professor Benson seemed, then whether his sleep was natural, his
respiration normal, and to obtain such other information as might
indicate the man's condition.

Word came back over the wire that his sleep did not seem natural,
although he showed no fever, but he called constantly for protection,
as if in fear of someone harming him. Mrs. Dunbar gave orders that
everything possible be done for his comfort, and she promised to call
the next day personally to look after him. As everyone in Bellaire
knew Mrs. Guy Dunbar, her wishes were sure to be respected, and no
doubt her interest obtained for the sick man all possible "special
attention."

A little later even the lights in the study and Mrs. Dunbar's room were
extinguished, and the tranquillity of slumber fell softly over the
sloped roof of Cragsnook.

It must have been past midnight--no one had at the moment any thought
of time--when something aroused the household!

Cleo jumped out of bed and rushed to her aunt's door! Mrs. Dunbar
heard her step, and the door was opened when she reached it.

"Oh, what was that?" gasped Cleo.

"I don't know, but it sounded like a cry! Listen!"

A low, moaning wail, almost like wind through the attic chimney,
sounded again.

"There! That's someone calling," replied Mrs. Dunbar. She snatched a
small revolver from under her pillow, threw on a dressing gown, stuck
her feet into her slippers, all at the same moment. Cleo threw around
her own shoulders a cape she found over a chair and both were ready now
to investigate.

Down the hall pattering feet told of the other girls' alarm.

"Oh, Cleo," begged Grace, "where are you? What is that dreadful noise?"

"Come in," answered Mrs. Dunbar, "and just don't be too alarmed. I am
able to fight anything that groans that way. Come along, Cleo. You're
not afraid, are you?"

"I would be if I stood still and listened to that," replied the little
scout. "Here, girls, get some weapon. These old swords are all
right," springing to a chair and bringing down from their hanging place
at the hall door two glittering Turkish blades. "You won't have to use
them, but it's best to be armed," insisted Cleo. "Where's Mary?"

"Oh, I forgot all about her!" gasped Madaline.

"We must look for her," said M