But after a moment the Sage observed, with his habitual philosophy, “Well, if it’s the ghost that inhabited that house, he is wise in seeking other quarters, for it will soon be nothing but red-hot ashes.”
Then, afraid that Henry might think him weak enough to believe in ghosts, he added, hastily, “Of course, you know, boys, that there are no such creatures as ghosts; only—”
At this juncture the speaker broke off abruptly, and whatever information he had to impart was lost. The apparition was now quite close to the boys, and as the last words left George’s lips, it flung off something very much like a sheet, and exclaimed, in a voice quite as human as ghostly:
“Well, young gentlemen, since you hesitate to take me for a supernatural being, I shall reveal myself to you.”
“Do it, then,” said Steve, in street Arab style. “Do it, for we must be off to look for a comrade.”
“This to me!” cried the new-comer, angrily. “I’d have you know that I am Benjamin Stolz.”
“Oh, horrors!” groaned Steve. “It’s the man that owns ‘Nobody’s House.’”
Mr. Stolz spoke again. (By the way, his full name was Benjamin Franklin Stolz.) Laying aside the bantering tones in which he first addressed them, he spoke fiercely:
“Young men, I want to know who owns that burning house?”