"It's a ghost!" she cried. "A ghost! Heaven help me!"
The cry was so piercing and so genuine, it roused Margaret from the stupor in which she was moving.
"My father! He is dead, after all! Oh, daddy!" she screamed, and then turned, brushed past the woman, and sped out of the back door of the mansion.
"What's the matter?" came from the policeman who was on guard.
"She—a ghost!" stammered Mrs. Morse. "I saw her!"
"Her? Who?"
"Margaret Langmore! Or else her ghost!" The woman had gone white, and was shaking from head to feet.
"Where?"
"Here."
"When?"