“Oh, any way—like a dog or a wolf, you know. And then they’ll be scared to death, and we’ll just pitch their beds, and dishes, and everything else out of the door, and show them how to clean house.”
Riley didn’t know that Allen Mackay and Jack Dudley, hidden in the bushes, heard this speech, nor that Jack, as soon as he had heard the plan, crept away to tell Bob at the house what the enemy proposed to do.
As the crowd neared the log-house, Riley prudently fell to the rear, and pushed Pewee to the front. There was just the faintest whitening of the sky from the coming moon, but the large apple-trees in front of the log-house made it very dark, and the dough-face crowd were obliged almost to feel their way as they came into the shadow of these trees. Just as Riley was exhorting Pewee to knock at the door, and the whole party was tittering at the prospect of turning Bob, Jack, and Columbus out of bed and out of doors, they all stopped short and held their breaths.
“Good gracious! Julius Caesar! sakes alive!” whispered Riley. “What—wh—what is that?”
Nobody ran. All stood as though frozen in their places. For out from behind the corner of the house came slowly a skeleton head. It was ablaze inside, and the light shone out of all the openings. The thing had no feet, no hands, and no body. It actually floated through the air, and now and then joggled and danced a little. It rose and fell, but still came nearer and nearer to the attacking party of dough-faces, who for their part could not guess that Bob Holliday had put a lighted candle into an Indian’s skull, and then tied this ghost’s lantern to a wire attached to the end of a fishing-rod, which he operated from behind the house.
Pewee’s party drew close together, and Riley whispered hoarsely:
“The house is ha’nted.”
Just then the hideous and fiery death’s-head made a circuit, and swung, grinning, into Riley’s face, who could stand no more, but broke into a full run toward the river. At the same instant Jack tooted a dinner-horn, Judge Kane’s big dog ran barking out of the log-house, and the enemy were routed like the Midianites before Gideon. Their consternation was greatly increased at finding their boats gone, for Allen Mackay had towed them into a little creek out of sight, and hidden the oars in an elder thicket. Riley and one of the others were so much afraid of the ghosts that “ha’nted” the old house, that they set out straightway for Greenbank, on foot. Pewee and the others searched everywhere for the boats, and at last sat down and waited for daylight. Just as day was breaking, Bob Holliday came down to the river with a towel, as though for a morning bath. Very accidentally, of course, he came upon Pewee and his party, all tired out, sitting on the bank in hope that day might throw some light on the fate of their boats.
“Hello, Pewee! You here? What’s the matter?” said Bob, with feigned surprise.
“Some thief took our skiffs. We’ve been looking for them all night, and can’t find them.”