ippletree out on the
lawn. It was the Colonel's buckboard which stood in need of oiling; I
recognized the sound. Curiosity was too much for me this time. I slipped
out of bed and hurried to the window. It was pretty dark outside, but
there was a faint glimmer of starlight.

"Whoa, Jennie Loo; whoa!" I heard Rad's voice scarcely above a whisper,
and I saw the outline of the cart plainly with Rad driving, and either
some person or some large bundle on the seat beside him. It was on the
side farthest from me, and was too vague to be distinguished. He made a
wide detour of the house across the grass, and struck the driveway at
the foot of the lawn; the reason for this manoeuvre was evident--the
gravel drive from the stables passed directly under the Colonel's
window. I went back to bed half worried, half relieved. I strongly
suspected that this was the end of the ghost; but I could not help
puzzling over the part that Radnor had played in the little comedy--if
comedy it were. The stories that I had heard about some of his
disreputable associates returned to my mind with unpleasant emphasis.

I had gradually dozed off, when half waking, half sleeping, I heard the
patter of bare feet on the veranda floor. The impression was not
distinct enough to arouse me, and I have never been perfectly sure that
I was not dreaming. I do not know how much time elapsed after this--I
was sound asleep--when I was suddenly startled awake by a succession of
the most horrible screams I have ever heard. In an instant I was on my
feet in the middle of the floor. Striking a match and lighting a candle,
I grabbed an umbrella--it was the only semblance of a weapon anywhere at
hand--and dashed into the hall. The Colonel's door was flung open at the
same instant, and he appeared on the threshold, revolver in hand.

"Eh, Arnold, what's happened?" he cried.

"I don't know," I gasped, "I'm going down to see."

We tumbled down stairs at such a rate that the candle went out, and we
groped along in total darkness toward the rear of the house from where
the sounds were coming. The cries had died down by this time into a
horrible inarticulate wail, half animal, half human. I recognized the
tones with a cold thrill; it was Mose. We found him groveling on the
floor of the little passage that led from the dining-room to the serving
room. I struck a light and we bent over him. I hated to look, expecting
from the noise he was making to find him lying in a pool o