"Don't! don't!" the landlord pleaded.
"But I want you to hear it. Perhaps you can tell us what it is."
"There is never anything in the corridor," the landlord declared. "I can't set here if you shut that door."
"There he is again!" said Hodge, in the voice of one who expects to behold the supernatural and inexplicable and has steeled himself against unpleasant sensations. "There he comes! Barney, as sure as guns!"
The landlord dropped limply into a chair, and stared out through the open window in the direction indicated by Hodge's pointing finger. The others grouped round Merriwell and Bart.
"You see it?" Frank whispered.
"Let me out of this!" the landlord gurgled, though no hand was restraining him. "Booh-h-h! Let me out of this. Ah-h-h-h-h! It's a ghost, sure enough! Don't you see that white cloth on its head—a bloody white cloth?"
He seemed about to tumble over in a fit.
"He's coming this way!" Merry whispered. "Just keep still now, all of you!"
Rattleton seemed about to bolt from the place, though the others were bravely standing their ground.