howing the hour to be just
midnight.

Had it been possible to travel through the forest, the Grammar School
boys would have felt sure that it was Fred Ripley's crew. Then they
would have gone forth to see what was up. But feeling sure that they
were the only living beings in this part of the forest, it was
impossible to account for the awful sounds that came from without. What
made the wailing sound still more frightful was the fact that it all
seemed a part of the wind that was now rising gradually. And the clearly
uttered, sepulchral words made it all real enough. The wind never talks
in words.

Again came the wailing, though this time without words.

"I never believed there were such things as real ghosts," declared Harry
Hazelton.

"Then you're a fool. Everybody knows that there are ghosts--and they're
fine people that do noble work!" proclaimed chattering Hen from under
the weight of clothing. He was trying to win the favor of the ghosts.

"If there are any ghosts around here I wish one of 'em would pick you up
in a sheet, take you away and drop you in your own home in Gridley,"
declared Tom, becoming decidedly irritated by this babyish imitation of
a boy.

"Oh, please don't say that!" begged Hen piteously. "The ghost might hear
you."

"If he does, and takes Tom's advice," hinted Dave, "we'll soon see it
happen."

That was enough to send thirteen year old Hen burrowing more frantically
than before.

The cabin was warm and bright inside. Dick, while trying to puzzle out
the matter to his satisfaction, carried four more logs to the fire, one
after another, and placed them.

Not one of the Grammar School boys had any desire to go to bed at that
time, save Hen, who wouldn't dare to be anywhere else. In fact, the
Dutcher youngster may have wondered whether he could stand on his feet
if he slipped out and into his clothes.

One by one the boys found seats. Dan picked up the air rifle and sat
with it across his lap.

"Whoever it is that's doing this trick has surely got us going," laughed
Dick uneasily.

"He has," affirmed Dave. "I don't believe in ghosts, but, under the
circumstances, this thing that's annoying us is more than some creepy.
If we could explain it I don't believe we'd let it worry us any. But I
suppose human beings are always most afraid of what they cannot
understand."

The wailings came at less frequent intervals now, though they continued
to be sufficiently awesome. But when the clo