"Take this lantern and go to one of the doors and see if you can
unfasten it. Try the back door; that's the most liable to be only bolted
and hooked. The front one's probably locked with a key."

The lantern and its bearer disappeared. Mrs. Barnes plodded around to
the back door. As she reached it it opened.

"It was only hooked," said Emily. "Come in, Auntie. Come in quick!"

Thankful had not waited for the invitation; she was in already. She took
the lantern from her relative's hand. Then she shut the door behind her.

"Whew!" she exclaimed. "If it don't seem good to get under cover, real
cover! What sort of a place is this, anyhow, Emily?"

"I don't know. I--I've been too frightened to look. I--I feel like a--O,
Aunt Thankful, don't you feel like a burglar?"

"Me? A burglar? I feel like a wet dishcloth. I never was so soaked, with
my clothes on, in my life. Hello! I thought this was an empty house.
There's a stove and a chair, such as it is. Whoever lived here last
didn't take away all their furniture. Let's go into the front rooms."

The first room they entered was evidently the dining-room. It was quite
bare of furniture. The next, however, that which Emily had entered
by the window, contained another stove, a ramshackle what-not, and a
broken-down, ragged sofa.

"Oh!" gasped Miss Howes, pointing to the sofa, "see! see! This ISN'T an