“No, indeed!” replied Marjorie. “It’s evident the ghost has a hatred of men, because he never shows himself when they’re around.”
“Displays a lot of good taste,” remarked John, “in his preference for the ladies. Now—you and mother and Ethel wait here on the porch till I come back! I don’t want you entering that empty house alone!”
“But we aren’t a bit afraid!” protested Marjorie. “Ethel and I both have our revolvers.”
Taking his own out from his hip pocket, John started around to the rear of the house, thinking all the while of the previous night at the tea-house, when he and Jack had searched so cautiously for the cause of the sounds that must have been imaginary, or produced by the storm. As before, he found nothing. Nevertheless, his time was not wasted; for he decided upon his own and Dick’s place of hiding for the night. After Marjorie’s two experiences with voices, which seemed both times to come from the cellar confirming what Anna had said of her own experience early in the summer—John was convinced that whatever it was that threatened the girls, it actually did originate there. But each time, he remembered, upon exploration Marjorie had found the cellar empty. It was only logical to conclude, therefore, that the tormentor had some method of escape.
Now upon his previous examination, John had come to the conclusion that there was only one plausible escape to the outside—for the windows were too high and too small to be of any use—and that place was the outside slanting cellar-door, which he had first thought of as an exit on the night he and the other boys spent at the tea-house.
Not far from this door, but on the opposite side of the fence dividing the Scott property from the one next door would be a good hiding-place. A dense honey-suckle vine covered the fence and hung over in profusion; and John noticed that there were two places where he and Dick could easily conceal themselves.
He was glad now that they had refused to allow the other boys to take part in the adventure, much as they had wished to. Someone would have been sure to talk, or make a noise, and thus defeat their own purpose; but he felt he could rely upon Jack and Dick Roberts.
When he returned to the porch, he found the women talking volubly. Marjorie seemed to have so much to say that there was scarcely opportunity for Mrs. Hadley to put in a word. “Ethel” remained discreetly silent.
“Any ghosts?” asked Marjorie.
“Not a sign!” replied John. “Everything’s very quiet.”