“No wonder what?” she asked quickly.
“Nothing,” he replied glumly.
When I came down to breakfast the next morning, the landlady in tears waylaid me.
“Oh, Mr. Wade,” she began in trouble-telling tone, “this affair about the ghost is going to hurt my business. Some of those folks say they are going home, and they will tell others and––”
“I’ll fix the ghost story. Just leave it to me!” I assured her optimistically, as we went into the dining-room.
There were only enough guests to fill one long table, and every one was excitedly dissecting the ghost.
I took my seat and also the floor.
“I hate to dispel your illusions,” I said cheerfully, “but the fact is, I made a daylight investigation of the haunted house. First I looked in the window and I saw––”
“Oh, what did you see?” chorused a dozen or more expectant voices.