"But," said Linda, "the laugh is entirely on our side, for—it wasn't a pistol. Please shut in the shutters, Berk, and I'll fasten them inside."
"It wasn't a pistol? Then what in the world was it?" Berkley paused in the act of closing the shutters.
"Paper bags!" returned Linda pulling the shutters together with a bang and closing the window, while upon the quiet of the night rang out a hearty peal of laughter from the two outside.
"It's lucky I didn't use a bottle of ammonia to throw in their faces," remarked Linda as the girls climbed the stairs. "That was my first thought, but the bags were handy in my washstand drawer."
"It was an awfully good joke," replied Bertie, "and I wouldn't have missed it, scared as I was at first. I was dreadfully afraid of burglars getting in and chloroforming us."
"Did you ever hear of the girl who slept with her head at the foot of her bed and who was roused by feeling something cold on her toes? A burglar was chloroforming them, and she let him do it, then when he was out of the room she jumped up, locked her door and gave the alarm."
Bertie laughed. "There is no fear of burglars now, I think, when we have two self-appointed watchmen."
"It does give us a safer feeling," acknowledged Linda.
"So we can rest in peace," returned Bertie going to her room.