ust mean she's a regular crank, Alec---excuse me for
saying it!" exclaimed Billy, wiping his heated brow, for when others
were shivering the fat boy perspired.

"Well, forget that part of it," resumed Alec, making a wry face. "Aunt
Susan is peculiar, and immensely wealthy, so that money needn't stand
in the way of her doing anything she fancies. In some way or other it
seems she heard about a queer place away up here in the woods. It is
known as Randall's Folly!"

"Why, seems to me I've heard something about that place!" burst out
Arthur Cameron, in a surprised tone. "Isn't it a modern castle built
by a man years ago and meant to look like some British place in the
days of Queen Elizabeth?"

"Just what it is, Arthur," chuckled Alec, as though highly amused.

"Let's see," pursued the other, uneasily, "there was some sort of
story told in connection with the castle---strikes me folks said it
was haunted, or something like that."

"Whew! and are we heading for that beautiful spot as fast as we can
hike along?" demanded Billy, his eyes round with wonder, perhaps
uneasiness.

"My aunt wrote to my mother that she wanted some one to come up here
and investigate, so she could have a full description before going
any further into the deal for the property. Not that Aunt Susan bothered
a bit about the ghost part of it, but she wanted to know whether the
building was a ramshackle affair, or part-way decent. In fact, she
asked for photographs of the place inside and out, and even requested
that, if I could be induced to take the trip, along with some of those
wonderfully bright chums of mine of whom she had been hearing such
great stories, I was to buy the best camera that fifty dollars could
command, and use the balance of the hundred for other expenses. So
here we are close to Randall's Folly, with Saturday ahead of us for
business, and meaning to go back home Sunday afternoon."

"Which lovely programme must include two nights spent under the roof
of a haunted house!" gasped Billy, still wiping his streaming forehead,
though he really should have been cooled off by this time.

"For my part," spoke up Arthur Cameron, "nothing would please me better
than the chance to say I'd run across a real ghost. I've been reading
lots of creepy stories connected with spooks, but they never could get
me to believe in such silly things."

"Same here," added the Stallings boy, though his voice sounded a trifle
unsteady as Hugh