A False Alarm

Northern Advocate, 12 June 1937, Page 10

A False Alarm

(By Rae Clark.) “Goodnight!” the cheery voice rang through the clear moonlit night. Mr J. B. Smith, of J. B, Smith and Son, was seeking repose. His heavy footfall echoed and re-echoed through the big house. Then silence. I decided to retire, too. Climbing the flight of marble stairs, I tiptoed gently past my friend’s door, thence Into my bedroom at the end of the hall. A light breeze was blowing the lacy curtains at the end of the room. I walked over the French windows and threw them open, letting the big full moon cast grotesque shadows across the carpeted floor. Silently I slipped into bed and was soon fast asleep; Tap! tap! A queer, muffled noise woke me while a cold sweat broke out on my brow. I had left the French windows open and the fire escape led down from the balcony. Burglars! The thought flashed through my mind. The constant “tap! tap!” was making me nervous. I slipped on my dressing gown and proceeded to investigate. Tap! tap! tap! tap! Each time the noise echoed I became more alarmed. At the opposite end of the hall was the lounge. Entering it I heard the noise more clearly. I drew back instinctively. Then a tremendous sigh of relief burst from me. The noise was the dripping of water on the floor. A vase had been knocked over by a prowling cat. Hastily replacing it, I hurried thankfully back to bed. How J. B. Smith laughed when I related the incident —Original.