Finally she disappeared, and a good many
thought that Cronin murdered her. Folks say the old house is haunted,
but that's all moonshine. Cronin himself enlisted and was killed in the
Civil War. By the way those owls carry on up the chimney I guess nobody
ever comes here."
That account quite destroyed my peace of mind. I would much rather have
gone out with the sheep, but I did not like to leave Addison. I got up
and searched for more fuel, for I could not bear to think of letting the
fire go out. No loose boards remained except an old cleated door partly
off its hinges, which opened on a flight of dark stairs that led into
the cellar. We broke up the door and took turns again tending the fire.
"Oh, well, this isn't so bad," Addison said. "But I wonder what the old
Squire will think when he gets to Morey's place with the team and finds
that we haven't come. Hope he isn't out looking for us in the storm."
That thought was disquieting; but there was nothing we could do about
it, and so we resigned ourselves to pass the night as best we could. The
owls still hooted and chortled at times, but their noise did not greatly
disturb us now.
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