“It is very much for you to know, Buck,” replied Ted, seating himself on a stool beside his chum. “You and I have been appointed camp leaders for the Boys’ Club during their August encampment!”
“Get out! You’re fooling!”
“I thought Mr. Calvert was, but he wasn’t. No, he wants us to go and take charge of the camp, which will be out in the woods at the camp of the Black Riders.”
“Hello, the haunted camp!”
“Where did you hear that it was haunted?” Ted asked, quickly.
“Oh, a cousin of mine told me, but it is just some foolishment, as our friend Jake Meyers would say. Some countryman went to sleep there one time and a rock rolled down hill, passing close to his head. It was a big rock and the man wouldn’t believe but that some ghost or goblin or something did it, and I guess from that time on there have been stories. They don’t amount to anything, though.”
“They don’t with us, but I don’t know how things will be with younger boys. You and I will have to laugh off any such feelings if they do get around, and if possible, we must do our best to see to it that they don’t get around. You’ve never been there, have you?”
“No. Have you?”
“No, but in accordance with a suggestion which Mr. Calvert approved, I’m going to run up there on Saturday afternoon and look the place over. Want to come along?”
“I won’t be able to, because I’m going visiting with the family. But you go ahead and look things over. Now, let’s have the whole story of what Mr. Calvert said.”