The room was very dimly lighted, and the walls had been hung with black muslin on which were painted grinning skulls and cross-bones in gleaming white. The big wood fire at one end of the room shone through a screen of red transparent stuff, which gave a crimson glow to the room.
Jack-o’-lanterns were all about, and the candles inside them lit up the grotesque faces of the pumpkins.
Bob Carey, who announced that he was the ghost of Hamlet’s father, introduced the other ghosts to each other.
“This,” he would say, indicating a sheeted figure, “is the ghost of Banquo. We used to play together as boys. And here is the ghost of a man who died a-laughing. You will observe his laughter when I tickle him.”
The ghost, when tickled, would give howls of demoniac laughter, in which the other guests involuntarily joined.
When all the weird-looking figures had assembled, the fun began.
Another room had been prepared as a fortune-telling room, and into this each guest was invited to go, alone, to learn his or her fate.
Just who was the fortune-teller was a great secret. No one outside of the Carey family knew who it was who greeted the seekers for knowledge as they entered one by one.
But apparently the strange being knew his clients, for many jokes and secrets were exposed, and often the victim came out giggling, but looking a trifle sheepish.
Jack was really very fond of Dorothy. Indeed, she was his favorite of all the girls—after Betty, of course.