t need the lantern. It's still daylight,
old chap. We'll find out what it was you all saw in the window."

"That's the last of him," muttered Isaac Porter, as the broad back
disappeared through the low aperture that was called a doorway. There
were no window sashes or panes in the house, and the door had long since
rotted from the hinges.

"He'll never come out. Let's go home," added Ed Higgins conclusively.

"Are you coming?" sang out Bonner from the interior of the house. His
voice sounded prophetically sepulchral.

"Consarn it, cain't you wait a minute?" replied Anderson Crow, still
bravely but consistently looking for the much-needed dark lantern.

"It's all right in here. There hasn't been a human being in the house
for years. Come on in; it's fine!"

Anderson Crow finally ventured up to the doorway and peeped in. Bonner
was standing near the tumbledown fireplace, placidly lighting a
cigarette.

"This is a fine job you've put up on me," he growled. "I thought there
would be something doing. There isn't a soul here, and there hasn't
been, either."

"Thunderation, man, you cain't see ghosts when they don't want you to!"
said Anderson Crow. "It was a ghost, that's settled. I knowed it all
the time. Nothin' human ever looked like it, and nothin' alive ever
moaned like it did."

By this time the rest of the party had reached the cabin door. The less
timorous ventured inside, while others contented themselves by looking
through the small windows.

"Well, if you're sure you really saw something, we'd better make a
thorough search of the house and the grounds," said Bonner, and
forthwith began nosing about the two rooms.

The floors were shaky and the place had the odour of decayed wood. Mould
clung to the half-plastered walls, cobwebs matted the ceilings, and
rotted fungi covered the filth in the corners. Altogether it was a most
uninviting hole, in which no self-respecting ghost would have made its
home. When the time came to climb up to the little garret Bonner's
followers rebelled. He was compelled to go alone, carrying the lantern,
which one of the small boys had found. This part of the house was even
more loathsome than below, and it would be impossible to describe its
condition. He saw no sign of life, and retired in utter disgust. Then
came the trip to the cellar. Again he had no followers, the Tinkletown
men emphatically refusing to go down where old Mrs. Rank's body had been
buried. Bonner laughed a