“Ow! Joe! Joe! It’s choking me!” screamed poor Albert, twisting and turning madly, for his pillow case had slipped too far over his head and he felt as though he was smothering.
The other children had rushed to the door when they heard the racket. Across the street in the Larue house lights were blazing through the windows as the shades were run up, for the noise had reached the grown-ups there.
“Take it off, Fred,” called Artie. “Hurry—take it off! I can’t see a thing in here.”
“It—won’t—come—off!” gasped Fred. “Don’t you see me pulling?”
He took a step backward, his foot caught one of Artie’s, and they went down together, dragging the kicking ghost on top of them. When Mr. Williamson and Mr. Larue and Mr. Marley reached the spot a few minutes later, to their astonishment they saw what looked like a brown and white animal with spots thrashing about on the ground and apparently fitted with dozens of legs and arms.
CHAPTER VI
POLLY’S PROBLEM
As this queer animal flopped about, muffled cries and shouts came from it. Dancing around it were four little figures in the wildest state of excitement.
“Here, here, what’s all this?” asked Mr. Williamson. “You’ll have the whole town here in another minute. What’s that on the ground?”
“Fred!” said Margy.
“Artie!” cried Polly.