“You don’t think we’ll be cold?”
“The woods are chilly at night.”
“Bring me back a bearskin,” suggested Freckles jokingly. “I could use one.”
“I don’t expect to shoot anything,” replied his father. “But, of course, you never can tell.”
Half an hour later Mrs. Gay drove the two adventurers over to Dark Cedars and let them out at the hedge. Mary Louise, with Silky at her heels, led the way up to the house.
“It is a gloomy-looking place,” observed her father as he followed her through the trees. “Yet it could be made very attractive.”
Mary Louise shuddered.
“Nobody would ever want to live here after all the ghost stories get around. You know how people exaggerate, and the stories are bad enough as they are.”
“The porch certainly needs paint and repairs. It’s a wonder Miss Grant hasn’t fallen down and broken her neck.”
Mary Louise inserted her key in the lock and opened the heavy wooden door. Inside, the shutters were carefully closed, and the dark, somber house seemed almost like a tomb. The stairs creaked ominously as the two ascended them, and Mary Louise was thankful that she was not alone. After that one experience in Miss Grant’s bedroom, she never knew what strange creature might rush at her from the big, dark closet.