When the loud, piercing cry echoed through the old stone house, Nancy Drew instinctively clutched the bedclothing about her neck as though by so doing she could protect herself from an unseen danger. An instant she waited, but the cry was not repeated. There was not a sound to be heard anywhere in the house.

Then, with determination, Nancy sprang from the bed and slipped quickly into her dressing gown and put on her bedroom slippers. Reaching under her pillow, she was relieved to find the revolver and flashlight where she had left them.

The stars were no longer shining and the room was so dark that she could not see a foot ahead of her. Switching on the flashlight, she made her way to the door and gave it a pull. It did not open.

“Am I locked in?” Nancy thought in horror.

In her haste and excitement, she had forgotten that she had fastened the door herself. As she remembered, she turned the key in the lock and jerked open the door.

Stepping out into the corridor, she flashed her light about in all directions. There was no one in sight.

Then the door at the end of the hall opened and Floretta half-stumbled, half-fell into the corridor. As she saw the flashlight, she let out a low cry of fright.

“Be quiet!” Nancy warned.

“Oh, I thought it was the ghost!” Floretta chattered. “Did you hear that terrible scream?”

“Yes, I heard it. Where is Miss Rosemary? See if she is all right.”

“Oh, if Rosemary has been murdered⁠—”

She broke off as Rosemary came out of her room. She, too, was badly frightened, but she was able to maintain a certain amount of composure. The two sisters huddled together near Nancy. Although nearly thirty years older than the girl, they seemed to look to her for protection.

“The cry came from the floor below, or at least that’s the way it sounded to me,” Nancy whispered. “We must go down there and find out what has happened.”

“Go down there?” Floretta wailed. “Never!”

“Sh!” Nancy warned. “Not so loud. We don’t know what danger we are facing.”

“We’ll be murdered if we go down there,” Floretta maintained in a slightly lower tone.

“I have a revolver.”

“I can’t go.”

“Then you stay here,” Rosemary said brusquely, to hide the tremble in her own voice. “If you’re going downstairs, I’ll go with you, Nancy.”

“And leave me here all alone?” Floretta asked desperately.

“Then come along,” Rosemary told her curtly.

Flashlight in hand, Nancy Drew had already started to move toward the steps. Rosemary followed, and Floretta, not to be left alone, brought up the rear.

On the stairway, the three huddled together while Nancy flashed her light about the hall below them. Everything was in perfect order and there was no sign of an intruder.

“It was a ghost! I know it was!” Floretta whispered.

“Be quiet!” Rosemary warned.

Nancy led the way on down the circular stairs. At every step the old boards creaked alarmingly underfoot.

“We’re certainly heralding our approach all right,” Nancy thought grimly. “I hope someone doesn’t take a shot at us!”

This fear she did not communicate to the Turnbull sisters, for she knew that it would take but little to throw them into a frenzy of fright.

Reaching the drawing room, she fumbled about and finally located an oil lamp which she lighted. A survey of the room revealed nothing amiss. Everything seemed in its place, and the trio moved on toward the sun parlor.

“The silver!” Floretta exclaimed suddenly. “Do you suppose it is missing?”

The same thought had just occurred to Nancy, and, turning quickly, she hurried toward the dining room. Floretta and Rosemary followed at a more cautious pace.

The buffet where the silver was kept was locked. Rosemary removed the key from a nearby vase and, fitting it into the lock, opened the door.

“Nothing is missing,” she declared, after she had finished counting the silver.

“I don’t believe the cry came from this room, anyway,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “It seemed to me that it was directly under my bedroom.”

“Then the cry must have come from the library,” Rosemary announced.

“I thought it seemed to come from that direction, too,” Floretta murmured. “It was the most bloodcurdling yell I ever heard. Like someone in distress.”

“Shall we search the library?” Nancy interrupted.

“Lead the way,” Rosemary told her grimly.

With revolver held ready for instant use, Nancy Drew started in the direction of the library. The Turnbull sisters, who still huddled together, kept close behind her. Scarcely had they taken a dozen steps when Floretta paused and looked anxiously back over her shoulder.

“What was that?” she whispered fearfully.

“What?” Nancy asked impatiently, turning around. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“I thought I heard footsteps behind me,” Floretta murmured nervously.

“You must have been mistaken,” Rosemary said firmly. “I heard nothing.”

Nancy was certain that Floretta’s nerves were getting the best of her, but nevertheless, to make sure that they were not being followed, she paused and strained her ears to catch a sound. She could hear nothing.

“You must have been mistaken,” she said quietly, again moving on.

In the face of danger, Nancy Drew was cool and collected, but even for her it was a nerve-wracking experience to move through the dimly lighted old mansion, uncertain as to what lay just ahead. At any moment they might be walking into a trap.

She opened the library door cautiously, half-expecting something to spring out and pounce upon her. As she flashed her light about the room she was relieved to see that everything was in order. But was it?

Her eye rested upon a ladder-back chair which had been pushed up against the bookcase. Surely, Rosemary and Floretta would not have left it that way, for they were both excellent housekeepers and meticulous about details.

Rosemary’s eyes had fallen upon the same chair.

“Someone has been in here!” she exclaimed.

Her eyes slowly traveled upward to the top of the bookcase. She gave a little scream.

“My silver urn! It’s gone! Someone has stolen my urn!”