“Is yo’ all daid?” he asked in awed accents.
“Not quite all of us,” answered the professor, “but we will be unless you come in and hoist the ladder for us.”
“Did th’—th’ ghost knock it down?” asked Jones.
“It did,” replied Bob, solemnly.
“I knowed it! I knowed it! Maybe you’ll believe me next time. Golly! I ain’t goin’ t’ stay here,” and Jones was about to run off down the road.
“Here! Come back!” commanded the captives, and the colored man reluctantly did so.
“I doan laik t’ stay round yeah!” pleaded the negro. “’Tain’t no ways healthy. What yo’ done want, anyhow?”
“We want you to hoist the ladder for us,” said the professor. “Come now, don’t be silly. The only ghost there was, and we saw it, was an old white mule with a chain on its neck.”
“Co’se it were! Dat’s de form it took when I seed it!” cried Jones. “But it can take on any shape, dat ghost can. Next time it’ll be a lion er a tiger er a elephant. Monstrous terrible things, ha’nts is. So de ghost done knocked de ladder down! I knowed it would do suthin’.”
Amid a show of genuine fear the colored man entered the cabin, and after replacing the cistern cover cautiously raised the ladder. Then he ran out as if the ghost were after him.