"Whee-e-e--yar-r-r-r--yaw-w-w--yop, yop, yop," he would go. And
then he would begin it again, and go through it once more.

We looked at this spectacle for about twenty seconds. Then we all
turned around, and tip-toed back, through the hall, and into the
dining-room.

"Somehow," said Mr. Daddles, "I think we'd better get out of this
house."

"So do I," came from all the rest of us, like a chorus.

There was no dispute about it at all. Mr. Daddles and Ed Mason
started for the pantry without delay.

"P'r'aps we'd better put back these dishes," whispered Jimmy;
"they might find 'em, and that would start 'em after us."

But neither Mr. Daddles nor Ed heard him at all. The latter merely
said "Hurry up!" and then disappeared toward the kitchen. It
struck me that Jimmy was right, and although I was anxious to get
out of the house as quick as possible, it did not seem likely that
anything would wake up those policemen for hours to come. So we
put the dishes back into the butler's pantry, set back the chairs,
and fixed the room, as well as we could, in the way that we had
found it. Just as I put out the gas Jimmy slipped the pound-cake
into his pocket.

"We might as well have this," he said.