“It’s a black dog!” ejaculated Amelia Boggs. “I reckon there aren’t any canine ghosts; are there, Nan?”
The laugh which followed this sally broke the spell of superstition that had clutched some of the girls. Laughter drove away even the fears of May, Lillie and Grace. Bess swallowed hard and laughed, too; but she pinched Nan’s arm as she whispered:
“It was that black thing we saw before in the boathouse, Nan.”
“All right. Keep it to yourself,” urged her chum.
“What are you two whispering about?” complained May. “You didn’t get us down here to try to frighten us to death, did you?”
“We’re going to give you all a good time, if you’ll let us,” laughed Nan, cheerfully. “Come on, girls! If we spend so much time outside the boathouse, somebody will be sure to see us.”
“And think we’re a whole troop of ghosts,” chuckled Laura Polk. “Lead on, Macduff!”
“That’s not my middle name, but I’ll lead,” returned Nan promptly, and this time she succeeded in reaching the side door of the boathouse. She drew forth the electric flashlight and pointed it at the lock, so she could see to insert the key.
“Hurry up!” cried Laura, from the rear. “I’m starved to death right now.”
“And it’s only ten o’clock,” somebody else said. “How can that be?”