"Barney!" he softly called. "Barney—Barney Mulloy!"
The only answer that came back was a slow and heavy tread, that seemed to come from a corridor opening out upon the walk along which Barney had come.
Tramp, tramp, tramp!
The footsteps sounded with great distinctness. Merriwell threw open the door of his room leading out into this corridor. The light of the lamp flooded the corridor, and he was able to view it from end to end. He could have sworn that the footsteps were just beyond his door. But the corridor was absolutely empty. And the footsteps had ceased.
Frank whistled softly to himself. He was not superstitious, but this was rather shaking to the nerves. He hurried back to the window and looked out upon the walk and down the moon-lighted sward. No sound came, save the dashing of the surf. He leaped through the open window and proceeded to inspect the grounds in that vicinity. The ghostly form had vanished.
"Hodge!" he called. "Hodge! Come out here."
Hodge, who occupied an adjacent room, and who had been asleep, threw up a window and looked out.
"Yes," he said. "As soon as I can slip into my clothes. What is it, Merry?"
"I don't know," Frank confessed. "I wish I did know."
"Of course, there are no such things as ghosts," he declared, when Bart joined him. "But if ever a man saw one, I did just now—the ghost of Barney Mulloy!"