Thoroughly disgusted with the turn affairs had taken, Merriwell and his friends sought towels and dry clothing, and decided to let Hans and Ephraim alone for the rest of the night.
In the morning every one about Springbrook Farm knew of the “ghost joke,” and the boys were “jollied” unmercifully, Kenneth St. Ives being forced to endure it with the others.
The general uproar in the summerhouse had been heard by those in the mansion, and it had set the hounds to barking in the stable, but the shouts of laughter coming from the house told that it was some sort of frolic, so no one sought to investigate.
Ephraim and Hans came forth in the morning, arm in arm, although they made a most grotesque couple, the Dutch boy being short, round and fat, while the Yankee lad was tall, lank and angular.
The faces of this odd pair were grave and solemn, and their air of innocence was refreshing to behold.
“Good-mornin’, fellers,” nodded Ephraim. “I hope yeou all slept fust rate late night?”
“How you peen dese mornin’, boys?” inquired Hans, with apparent concern. “I hope you didn’t disturb me der night in. I peen aple to slept shust like a top all der night ofer mitout vakin’ ub ad all.”
“I am glad you slept so well,” smiled Frank. “There was some noise about the house in the night, and I thought it might have aroused you.”
“I nefer heard something ad all,” declared Hans. “I pelief me I hat a tream someding apout a ghost, but dot peen all.”
“Oh, say,” grunted Browning, clinching his huge fist and shaking it close down by his side. “You wait! There are other days coming!”