We all stood in perfect silence. So did the thing. It looked like a man, only it was a very big and broad man, and also a very low and stumpy one, as I said. Why he should be crawling along in that open field, on his hands and knees, was something I could not understand. Unless,--and this gave me another chilly feeling-- unless he were a real burglar. I wanted to run, but I was ashamed to do so for fear of what the others would think. Moreover, although I was afraid to stay there, I was also afraid to run, for I didn't like the idea of that thing chasing me through the fog. So we all stood there in a group. At last Mr. Daddles stepped toward the thing. "What do you want?" he said, in a low tone. There was no answer. The thing stayed perfectly motionless. This was getting terrible. I could feel my heart thumping away, and my temples seemed to be bursting with the blood which was pumped into them. "What do you want?" said Mr. Daddles again; "come, who are you and what do you want?" He took another step toward the thing, and then suddenly jumped back. The thing seemed to sway toward us, and then it uttered a horribly loud: "Moo-o-o-o-o-o!" It was a second or two before we could laugh. "Well, you miserable old cow!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "you nearly scared a crowd of burglars to death!" And he walked up to her, where she had already begun to feed again, and slapped her fat side. She paid no attention to him, but kept on cropping the grass. "Come on, now, boys. I thought we were attacked by a hippopotamus, at least." "I thought it was a man without any legs," said Jimmy. "I thought it was a real burglar," said I. "I dunno what I thought it was," said Ed Mason, "and that was the worst of it." And if any of you who read this think we were a silly lot to be frightened by an old cow, it is because you have never met one at night, in a thick fog. You try it some time, and see. We went down a little slope, and came up behind the house and barn. We crossed a vegetable patch, and then a flower-garden. Jimmy stopped Mr. Daddles. "We'd better look out for the dog." "No; my uncle never keeps one,--he doesn't like 'em." In a grape-arbor, right back of the house, we paused to decide on a plan of action. "We'll try that window first," said our leader, pointing, "and then the others on the veranda. I don't want to break one if we can help it. If we have to, we'll take a basement window. You stay here a second." He darted out of the arbor, and ran noiselessly up the steps. He tried a window, gave it up, and tip-toed along the veranda to another. No sooner had he started to raise the sash than he turned and beckoned to us. In an instant we were out of the arbor, and at the window with him. "This is great luck,--look!" He raised the window without any trouble at all. "Very careless of Aunt Fanny,--but it saves us from having to smash one."