“Let’s go down and see what’s happening,” Terry suggested. “We’re not afraid of workmen.”
They all trooped down in much different spirits than they had come up in. Now, like weather vanes turning in the wind, their interest was veering to the commotion below.
In the hallway stood the three workmen who had so recently rushed out of the old mansion. There was another, an older man, obviously their employer, with them now.
“Are you men telling me that you’re quitting, too?” asked the boss sharply.
“Yes, sir,” the leader of the three stated emphatically. “I don’t like this place. I’d rather chop down trees all winter than go up on the top floor for a day and start tearing this place down.”
“But, man, you’re wrong! There’s nothing there. You told me this same story last week, and when I looked in, the room was empty,” the wrecking contractor declared.
The girls were on the landing above, and he turned to them, seemingly surly and surprised.
“That your car outside? What are you doing in here?” he asked bruskly.
“Yes,” answered Sim. “We heard someone shout as we were going past and stopped to see—if we could help.”
“Well—what did you find?” the contractor asked, apparently hoping that the statement of disinterested young ladies would impress the frightened men favorably.