.

"Why, that's where dear Great-great-uncle Rick's ghost is supposed to
walk, isn't it?" she asked innocently. "I hope that our late tenant
didn't scare him away. It gives one such a blue-blooded feeling to think
of having an active ghost on the premises. A member of one's own family,
too!"

"Sure. Teach him--or it--some parlor tricks and we'll show it--or
him--off every afternoon between three and four. We might even be able
to charge admission and recoup the family fortune," Val suggested
brightly.

"Have you no reverence?" demanded his sister. "And besides, ghosts only
walk at night."

"Now that's something we'll have to investigate," Val interrupted her.
"Do ghosts have union rules? I mean, I wouldn't want Great-great-uncle
Rick to march up and down the carriage drive with a sign reading, 'The
Ralestones are unfair to ghosts,' or anything like that."

"We'll have to use the Long Hall, of course," cut in Rupert, as usual
ignoring their nonsense. "And the old summer drawing-room. But we can
shut up the dining-room and the ball-room. We'll eat in the kitchen, and
that and a bedroom apiece--"

"I suppose there are bathrooms, or at least a bathroom," his brother
interrupted. "Because I don't care to rush down to the bayou for a good
brisk plunge every time I get my face dirty."

"Harrison put in a bathroom at his own expense last fall."

"For which blessed be the name of Harrison. If he hadn't gone to Italy,
he would have rebuilt the house. How soon do we get there? This touring
is not what I thought it might be--"

The crease which had appeared so recently between Rupert's eyes
deepened.

"Leg hurt, Val?" he asked quietly, glancing at the slim figure sharing
his seat.

"No. I'm expressing curiosity this time, old man, not just a whine. But
if we're going to be this far off the main highway--"

"Oh, it's not far from the city road. We ought to be seeing the
gate-posts any moment now."

"Prophet!" Ricky leaned forward between them. "See there!"

Two gray stone posts, as firmly planted by time as the avenue of
live-oaks they headed, showed clearly in the afternoon light. And from
the nearest, deep carven in the stone, a jagged-toothed skull, crowned
and grinning, stared blankly at the three in the shabby car. Beneath it
ran the insolent motto of an ancient and disreputable clan, "What I
want--I take!"

"This is the place all right--I recognize Joe there." Val pointed to the
crest. "Good old Joe, alway